Dying Embers
by Dewitt94
Summary: Amelia Beckett. A British Assassin, living in America. After the loss of her father, Amelia continues his work for freedom against the Templars but when she comes face to face with the Grandmaster; it seems she finds more than she expected. Haytham/OC First Assassins Creed story
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first ever Assassin's Creed fanfiction. I've read a lot of stories that start off with Haytham romances then it quickly focuses back to Connor. As much as I love Connor, I am not ashamed to say that I have recently fallen in love with Haytham too. I don't think he gets enough love so I've decided to write this. It's been bouncing around in my head for over a month now and I've finally gotten around to writing down. I hope you like it and I apologize if there are any mistakes, it's 1am here so I'll check it over in the morning if there are any errors. Hope you like the story! :)**

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The midnight air was cold. Chilling winds whispering across the sky only added to her doubt. But Amelia was determined, fearless and it was those things that had brought her up to this wretched rooftop. Watching his every move down below, she waited. Her heart quickened with every beat, hands sweated as she realised her hidden blades; preparing to pounce. As he stepped out into the snow, hard boots crushing on the ground beneath him. A slight shake of his head to dust the flakes of winter from the dark blue of his cloak and hat. Her eyes followed him as he made his way down the street through the alleyways and into the shadows. She glided effortlessly from roof to roof, scaling each and every brick with ease before sliding down a rope dropping gracefully to the white snow covered ground. Amelia's hands shook, her lips curved with anger and hatred. There was no turning back, she had come too far. An Assassin Mentor about to kill the Templar Grandmaster, it only seemed fitting.

Stepping forward, she moved swiftly around the corner taken from the moonlight and into the shadows. She froze as she saw his still form stood at the end of the alley, her eyes narrowed as daggers shot to the back of his head. Drawing her hidden blades back, she moved to strike forward.

"Come to kill me Assassin?"

Amelia stopped dead. Her eyes grew wide. Surely he could not have heard her, she had been so careful. The questions in her mind faded when he turned to face her. The smug smirk on his face angered her even more.

"You knew."

"Of course I did. You Assassins are not a nimble as you like to think you are."

"I beg your pardon?!"

He let out a deep chuckle as he stepped forward, arms placed behind his back.

"I've been expecting this encounter for quite some time. I only though it fitting that I see the face of final Assassin Mentor before I kill you."

"Bold words from a man about to die."

Amelia pounced forward, her blade striking deep into the Templar's arm. He quickly doubled back drawing his sword, swinging back clashing against the metal of Amelia's hidden blade. He pushed back with great force, twisting Amelia's arm as she winced in pain. She flinted as she felt her wrist click, falling pale at the sight of her own blood that ran down her arm. Taking another glance only then did she realize that he had broken her blade. Stepping back she stumbled allowing the Grandmaster to push her back against the wall. Her breath caught in her chest as he held his sword to her neck. Eye red with hatred and anger, he pressed harder as the sword started to tear through her flesh.

"You are not the first Assassin to make an attempt on my life and you certainly won't be the last. But I can assure you, I will not wait another second before I have rid the world of all who follow your ignorant Creed."

Amelia's heart stopped as she felt the sword drive against her stomach.

"Oi! You there!"

Both Assassin and Templar stopped as they saw the group of Redcoats approaching. Amelia took a chance as she threw her knee to meet the Grandmaster's gut. Sword clashed to ground as she stumbled back, Amelia took this as her chance to escape. Sprinting for the wall she quickly climbed to the roof, charging forward. Every foot carefully placed against the heavy snow settled upon the rooftops.

"Apprehend those two men!"

"Yes Sir"

Amelia groaned inwardly. It wasn't the first time she had been mistaken for a man. In fact some may have called her ruthless, a killer. But what else could she be, given the world she lived in? Especially a world that greatly underestimated the strength of a woman.

Lost in her thoughts, her feet misguided her as Amelia slipped from the roof. A small gasp left her lips as a hand took hold of her wrist. Glancing up at her saviour she was shocked to see the Grandmaster pulling her back to safety. Her eyes silently found his in disbelief. What reason would he have to save her now.

"There they are! After em'!"

Both Assassin and Templar took off together across the rooftops and throw the snow. The echo of gunshots threw through the air as the Redcoats gave chase after them. Sliding down the wall and through the alley. They moved swiftly the gardens and over the fences. The empty streets illuminated by the midnight moon sat silent. Amelia cautiously ran through with the Templar close behind.

"They went this way!"

"Damn!"

Amelia desperately took the Grandmaster's arm and dragged him back through the narrow alleyway walls. Her heart pounded with each beat, a strange urge to keep the Templar by her side to ensure escape. She couldn't understand it but a part of her wanted to save him from the Redcoats as well as herself. Dashing through the streets they both stopped greeted with a group of Redcoats, each arm with rifles pointed straight at them. Looking around they both knew there was no chance of escape.

"Well well look what we've got ere'. Looks like we got ourselves a couple of trouble makers. Take em' to the Fort. I'm sure Mister Whitmore would like a little chat with these two."


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry it's been a while since my last update. I've been busy and couldn't decide if I wanted to continue this story but I want to thank black ink'n white paper for giving me the encouragement to continue. I also wanted to thank them for pointing out something really stupid I did in the last chapter. Just to let everyone know, that last random part at the end of chapter 1 wasn't part of the chapter. It was some notes I'd left at the bottom of the doc and forgot to remove them before I posted so sorry about that. Anyway here's chapter two, I hope you like it and I hope I don't disappoint! :) Enjoy! **

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Her very breath echoed, as the light began to find her again. Pain erupted through Amelia's head and body. She didn't remember being struck by the Redcoat but she was certainly feeling it. From what remained of her memory she knew that they had managed to take out at least ten Redcoats between them before the darkness had swallowed her whole. As her eyes adjusted she could just make out the stone walls and iron bars of the small cramped cell that held her. The floor however felt unusually soft and it appeared to be...breathing. It was only then that Amelia realised she was resting on the Templar Grandmasters chest. Stumbling back she stared down at his unconscious body, his hat has fallen away giving her a better look at his face. She expected him being much older, but he seemed to look a similar age to her. Taking in every inch of his face, every feature; something seemed familiar. He seemed familiar. Amelia broke from her thoughts when he began to move letting out a pained groan. Reaching down she tore at the material of her cloak and slowly kneeled beside him, placing the cloth against the cut on his arm.

As he moved again she flinched, his eyelids fluttered open as his eyes suddenly met hers. Amelia pulled back her arm and moved to sit by the wall. The Templar watching her every move.

"You're hurt…I just thought I'd help stop the bleeding."

The Templar reached for his upper arm, looking back at his bloody fingers. Amelia cautiously leaned forward to pass him the cloth to dab his wound.

"That...wasn't necessary but thank you."

They both sat at opposite ends of the small cell in the darkness and endless silence. Neither one looking at the other. Amelia looked down at her broken hidden blade, the events of the night before replaying over and over in her mind. The cuts and bruises that marked her wrist and neck, sent her further into her thoughts. The roof, the Redcoats. The Templar saved her life and didn't seemed to think twice about it. Amelia couldn't help but wonder if maybe all Templars were like that, if maybe she'd misjudged them, him. No that couldn't be possible, they were the enemy. They always had been and that's what she'd been fighting against since she was a child. It was them that killed her family and it was them she had vowed to stop.

But this man had been in this cell with her for hours and hadn't taken her life. She was still alive, still breathing. If he wanted her dead, Amelia knew he wouldn't hesitate for a second. It was his piercing blue eyes that brought her away from her thoughts. Holding the cloth to his bleeding arm, he never took his eyes off her. Amelia felt foolish, it was almost as if he had been reading her mind from the way he was looking at her. Taking a deep breath, she finally broke the silence that sat between them.

"Why didn't you kill me? You had the chance, yet you chose not to,"

"I suppose I could ask you the same question."

"You pulled me back from my fall on the roof, why not leave me there?"

The Templar let out a deep sigh before answering.

"We were both in danger, the Redcoats would've killed you had you been on your own. It…It...wouldn't have been right to leave you behind like that."

Amelia couldn't help but laugh as the Templar glared at her reaction.

"I fail to see how that is amusing to you."

"I don't think I've ever come across a Templar with morals before."

"Then I suppose I'm not like other Templars."

"Of course you're not. The killings, intimation and obsession for power are all just charming qualities to you aren't they?"

"I beg your pardon?!"

"You Templars claim to seek justice but all you crave power; control. Haven't you taken enough from the people without taking the last thing they have that's theirs? Their freedom is not something you can just demand. It's time you realised that the world doesn't answer to you, no matter how much you want it to."

"We seek order. Justice for the people, to live freely but within their means of doing so. What's the point of fighting for freedom if there's no one there to lead them towards it? They want to be led, to fall into line. We do not crave power. We fight for order, purpose, and direction. Nothing more than that."

Amelia was speechless. Words of a response failed her as she leaned against the wall.

"You think us the villains, the enemy. Well the truth of the matter is, we're no different than you Assassin. We fight for the same cause, for the same goal. The only difference is the path we choose to get there."

Her blood began to boil as her nightmares whispered through the clouds in her mind. The past she'd tried to forget. The glow from the fire that smothered the houses in the distance, the screams of fear and pain. The loss and the heartache, she'd tried to bury all bursting at seams as she rushed to feet. Hands shaking, her green soft eyes now burning with anger.

"NO! You're wrong! You kill and you take. You tear apart families for your own personal gain! All those Assassins dead by your order! How is that justice?! For years the Templars have only caused me pain and loss. And I will fight with every fibre in my being to stop them! That is my vow to the Creed and…to my father."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi guys, I apologize it's been so long since my last update been really busy. But I am going to continue this story because I have a lot of ideas for it and I'm really excited about writing it too. Anyway hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope it's not a let down either. Please review and let me know what you think :-) Also I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes, my laptop is acting up. But it will be getting fixed soon thankfully.**

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The Grandmaster was taken back by Amelia's outburst. She slowly slid down the wall, resting with her head in her hands as quiet sobs echoed through the air. He suddenly felt a small spark of empathy, to make his own father proud. To lose someone you love was a pain he was all too familiar with.

As the night grew shorter, the silences became longer between the two. Not a wink of sleep was slept, much from the distrust in both Assassin and Templar. By midday Amelia resulted to standing on her bench staring out beyond the iron bars of the cell window. As the Redcoats scurried about below she watched with a keen eye. The fort itself was heavily guarded but it would easy to escape if she moved silently. Glancing back at the Templar she noticed he struggling to keep his eyes open.

"You are free to sleep you know, I shall try to resist cutting your throat Templar."

The Grandmaster smirked at her comment before rising to his feet and joining her by the window.

"I do hope you're not attempting to plan your escape. This fort is well guarded and the prison alone is patrolled daily. However having said that, I do believe we should find a way out of here before sunset."

A look of confusion flooded Amelia's face as she glanced at the Templar. His face blank as he stood calmly with his hands rested behind his back.

"It would seem you have overlooked something of dire importance Assassin."

Amelia watched the Redcoats pacing back and forth. Quiet whispers were exchanged between them as they walked the distance of the fort. It was only then that she noticed the rope they carried. Her eyes grew wide as she looked back to the Grandmaster.

"They mean to hang us."

"An execution at sunset. They always did have a flare for the dramatic don't you think?"

Stepping down from the bench Amelia slowly moved towards the cell door. Placing her hands on the rails, she took a deep breath before glancing back at the Grandmaster.

"So what do you propose?"

As the sun began to set the darkness swept across the cell's walls drawing in the shadows. Not second later the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor as a single Redcoat marched alone between the prison cells, rifle in hand and sword at the ready. Amelia sat patiently waiting as he drew closer and closer. The metal clang of keys caused her flinch as he opened the cell door and stormed inside. Amelia winched at the force of his hand as he pulled at her arm.

"Up! Up with you now!"

But she didn't move. Using all the strength she had, she stayed a still as possible.

"Oi! Are you deaf lad?! I said up with you!"

Amelia's nose cringed at the rotten stench of the Redcoat's breath as he leaned in closer. Pulling her hood further down to hide her face, as the Redcoat drew closer Amelia pulled him forward flipping him to the floor with a dusty thud. Rising to her feet, she stood tall quick to step on the Redcoat's wrist as he reached his fallen sword.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Glancing up to see her face in the setting sunlight, his eyes widened.

"You're a….woman…"

"Well now you are clever, whatever gave me away?"

The Redcoat shuffled across the floor for his rifle, the metal clang echoed against the floor. He froze instantly when the point of a sword was placed under his chin.

"Don't move… Now the keys to the prison, hand them over."

With fear in his eyes, the Redcoat cautiously reached for his belt unclipping the keys and tossed them to Amelia's feet.

"Thank you."

Amelia slowly stepped away from the Redcoat and took the sword for herself.

"You won't make it far thief. Even if you managed to make it out the prison you won't get passed those walls you-Aghh"

Amelia flinched as Haytham pulled his hidden blade from Redcoats back. Cleaning the blood from the blade as he made his way towards the door.

"Shall we be off?"

"Why did you do that?! Why kill him?"

"He was merely a loose end. Sparing him would've meant lowering our chances of escape. Do you really think he'd have kept his mouth shut had we left him alive?"

Amelia glared at the Templar with disgust and hatred in her eyes as he walked passed. He may have fought for freedom of the people but this proved she was right about all she knew of the Templars. No matter how helpful he'd been to her, she knew she still wouldn't let herself trust this man.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for all the comments and follows, I'm very grateful! I hope you're enjoying the story and I hope this next chapter doesn't disappoint. Also I apologise for any spelling mistakes. And please review/leave a comment, I really appreciate feedback. Enjoy! **

Amelia shivered against the cool breeze that danced up her spine. As she stood silently watching the fort walls in the distance. The memory of escape still fresh in her mind. The sound of her beating heart echoing in her ears as they moved through the fort out of sight. Redcoats so close you could hear their every breath.

She was free and she was grateful to be alive. Turning back to the path she noticed the Templar gazing at the night sky before looking down to face her. The look on his face clearly proved that he didn't know which way to go. Smirking to herself she ventured passed him further into the forest.

"I assume you need to return to Boston… I believe if we head east we should arrive in a week at the most."

"You wish to accompany me Assassin?"

"No I wish to keep my enemies close and return home unharmed. This way I can do both."

The Templar couldn't help but chuckle at her logic before following close behind.

It was a cool, windy night; the swaying of trees and rustling of leaves could only be heard and not seen as the darkness had blotted out all but the faintest light of the moon. Stopping in her tracks, Amelia glanced around at her surroundings. They were hours away from the fort by now and the night was harsh as winter beginning to set in. Looking out into the distance she could just spot a small cave in the opening of the rocks at the base of a rather large hill.

"We should make camp for the night. The weather will surely turn and the cold is too much to bare. There's a cave over there we can take shelter and keep warm."

"Very well. You craft us a fire, I shall hunt for food."

Amelia didn't even have time to argue before the Templar had disappeared into the depths of the trees. Taking a deep breath, she wandered inside the cave. The inside was surprisingly spacious and dry, taking hold of small rocks she quickly placed together a small fire pit before making her way back outside to collect wood.

The brisk winter wind took hold of her as she stepped out, noticing a small snow fall was beginning to cover the ground. The Grandmaster's footprints clearly visible as they led into the forest. She suddenly found herself full of endless questions about him once again. Why did he let her live after all this time? Why save her life in the first place? If Amelia didn't know any better; it almost seemed as if the Templar…cared about her safety.

Wondering further forward, Amelia collected handfuls of dry wood and broken sticks before she began to head back. With every step she took, another question entered her mind. Doubt, confusion and curiosity seemed to overwhelm her with each passing moment.

As the warmth of the newly roaring fire danced across her face, she found herself gazing at the flames. Her mind ever thinking of the mysterious Templar that had saved her life. She felt rather foolish having such thoughts of a man that was; in her rational mind an enemy…not to mention the fact that she didn't even know his name.

Amelia was brought from her thoughts by the sound of muffled footsteps stomping through the snow. She rose to her feet to become face to face with the Templar as he entered the small cave carrying a pair of small rabbits in his hand.

"I believe these should be enough to satisfy our empty stomachs for the time being."

"Yes… I…thank you."

After handing her the rabbits she quickly drew her hidden blade before kneeling to skin them, the pair prepared, cooked and ate their meals in silence.

As the cold winds continued to whisper into the night, the snow continued to fall. The fire had begun to die out and both Assassin and Templar had given in to their exhaustion.

Amelia let sleep take her in the hopes that her foolish thoughts would fade away. But they didn't, his face and his voice continued to plague her mind even as she slept. Woken suddenly by the volume of her racing mind, she realized just how cold she was. The cave may have been small and dry but held little to no heat at all. She felt her body shivering against the cold, small gasps uttering from her lips as she attempted to hold herself to keep the only heat she had left. The sound of shuffling feet caused her to freeze. Not daring to turn around from fear of facing her end, she prepared herself for the attack she had been inevitably waiting for. Instead she felt warmth, reaching down only to find the Grandmaster's cloak was draped across her shivering body.

Sitting up she glanced across at the Templar. Laying with his back facing her, she watched silently as he signed contently and drifted back to his peaceful slumber. Turning back to find sleep herself, she tucked the cloak around her small frame. As she settled, her mind began to race once more. Why was the Grandmaster so caring towards her? What did he want? Although she found his actions rather odd, she still couldn't help the small smile of gratitude that appeared. Amelia couldn't understand why the man seemed to care so much. And her instincts were telling her that she needed to find out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey hope everyone had a good Christmas, thank you for all the reviews/ comments they really mean a lot. Just to let you guys know, as much as I like Shay and I have played and finished Rogue (great game by the way) He won't be in this story because when I planned it, it was before the game was actually released. So I hope that's okay; heres chapter five I hope you like and it doesn't disappoint. Please comment :)**

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The snow had continued to fall and the days slowly passed, taking away all the patience and uncertainty with them. One day turned into two, two days faded into three. Both Assassin and Templar continued to trek through the deep snow. One behind the other.

As they moved forward, Amelia found herself staring at the Templar yet again. Three days had passed and the Grandmaster had shown her nothing but kindness and compassion. Even after all the time they'd sent together she still was no closer to finding out why.

Taking in the silence and the crisp cold morning air, she looked to her feet as they crumbled the snow below her. Glancing back to the Templar ahead of her she signed, exhausted by her own questioning mind. She noticed the Grand Master slow his pace as he glanced back at her, their eyes meant for only a second before he glanced over her shoulder and quickly stopped in his tracks.

Amelia turned to face him with a look confusion.

"What is it?"

"A word of warning; don't make any sudden movements."

She didn't need to question him as she slowly turned to see the pack of grey wolves moving towards them. For a moment the earth itself seemed to stand still. The only sound; the grumbles, grunts and growls of the pack. Amelia's heart pounded in her chest, she flinched slightly as she felt the sudden presence of the Templar close behind her. Both slowly reached for the weapons attached at their sides as they seemed to draw closer together.

In a single second they felt the other flinch as a piercing howl sounded along with the shrieking birds that flocked from the tree branches. The wolves moved closer, fangs exposed. Claws at the ready as the pack circled the Assassin and Templar, preparing to make their kill.

One by one, they snarled as they sprang forward. The Grandmaster swiftly pulled and shot his pistol in mid-air, meeting the wolf's chest as it fell to the floor with a dull thud. The next sprang towards Amelia, teeth snarling as she effortlessly drew her sword killing it in one fluid motion. The last of the pack charged all at once at the two, both just managing to fight them off as the drops of fresh blood strained the crisp blanket of snow. The two paused as they looked around at the pack of dead wolves that now littered the floor.

Amelia gasped in pain dropping to her knees as she reached for the deep gash on her arm. Wincing at the simple touch. The Grandmaster seemed quick to her side when he noticed she was injured.

"You're bleeding…here…"

"No that won't be necessary. Please just stop…that's enough."

She flinched at his touch as she moved away. The Templar stepped back, a look of confusion finding him.

"I don't follow…"

"You tried to kill me once…I still remember the feel of the blade against my neck and now you show me nothing but… kindness and compassion. Why the change of heart? I don't understand…I fail to see what value I could be to you I- "

Amelia stopped as she realised. It had been so simple, she just hadn't seen it at first. All those questions, all those doubts. Her instincts had never led her wrong before and she had known this was no different.

"Oh of course… Foolish of me to have not seen it before. But despite what you may think, I would never fight for your cause. I would never abandon all that I know and betray all that I am."

"I'm sorry to hear that my dear. You have impeccable skills and a great deal of potential. One that might strive while working with the Order. You would be seen as a great weapon amongst us."

"I am no weapon Grandmaster. And I don't intend to be used as a mere toy by the Templars. It would take more than pretty words and an illusion of your order and purpose. So if you do intend to end my life best do it quickly, save us both the wasted breath of this never ending debate."

The Grandmaster smirked to himself as he stood patiently with his hands placed behind his back. Pacing calmly around her, she never took her eyes off of the man. Her eyes burning with anger and hatred.

"Yes I suppose in theory I should kill you… but I won't. There's still much for you learn. Perhaps there may even be a chance to change your mind."

"I highly doubt that…"

"And yet you remain…"

Amelia could feel her blood beginning to boil. The man was impossible and she was glad she hadn't let herself be foolish enough to trust him. She was ready to rid of him and return home where she would happily put this unpleasant experience behind her, never be talked or thought about ever again.

"Do you wish to return to Boston alive or not?"

"By all means my dear please, lead on…"

The Templar chuckled deeply, angering her that much more with his overbearing smug attitude. It would thankfully take no more than just two days to get Boston. Amelia just prayed it wouldn't involve any more bloodshed, specifically the Grandmaster's.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you, for all the comments/reviews. I really appreciate the support for this story, I'm really enjoying writing it and have so many ideas. Anyway here's chapter six, I hope it doesn't disappoint and I hope you all enjoy it! Please comment/review I really appreciate the feedback :) Also I apologise for any mistakes, I think I got them all :) Enjoy**

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The warmth from the campfire should have been enough to lift Amelia's spirits after a day of walking in the cold. But after what felt like a mere moment the two were back on their feet, trekking through the deep snow once more.

It wasn't long before they ventured into the small town of Lexington. Its people seemed to scatter about, rushed on their feet. Mothers hurrying their children inside the home, fathers and sons quick to cover hay bales and leading livestock into the barns. Amelia walked silently alongside the Templar as they strolled through the town taking in their surroundings.

It had been hours since the two had spoken and she was glad for the silence. The Grandmaster hadn't even bothered to attempt conversation with her, perhaps from the fear of being struck or yelled at. Though Amelia highly doubted that; there was no chance the Templar would've been intimidated by her in the slightest. Still in a way it made to feel better to believe he was.

Moving further through the town Amelia looked around for a farmer or merchant of some sort. Amongst the two through very few words; they had decided it best to find horses instead. The journey to Boston would be safer and in Amelia's mind; a much quicker way to finally get away from the Grandmaster for good.

Not far ahead a Blacksmith tended to his horses, rushing to check their shoes before quickly ushering them into the barn. The Templar raised a hand to Amelia as they both stopped in their tracks.

"Would it be asking much of you to wait here, while I arrange the horses my dear?"

Amelia only offered a scoff in response as the Grandmaster stomped off in front to speak with the Blacksmith. She inched further forward to catch wind of the conversation, stepping even closer to hear the Blacksmith's answer.

"F'raid not Mister. Skies looking somethin' awful for tonight. Whole town is readying for a nasty snow storm."

At that moment Amelia marched straight for the Blacksmith and the Grandmaster, shamelessly placing herself in between the two as she spoke up.

"But we have to get back to Boston!"

"Maybe so Miss. But with the weather and all you'd be lucky to make it back in one piece, maybe you and your husband should find an inn for the night?"

His comment stopped Amelia cold. As she quickly stepped away from the Grandmaster.

"Oh he's not my-"

"Thank you for your time."

Amelia's blood boiled as the Templar cut her off shortly before walking away. With a frustrated huff she had no choice but to follow, her hands once again shaking from her bottled anger. And glancing towards him only seemed to anger her that much more, the obvious smirk present on his face as he strode towards the nearest Inn; centred in the middle of the small town. He'd clearly found the misunderstanding with the Blacksmith amusing and her patience was wearing thin.

Amelia sat by the fireplace staring into the flames of the fire, the rumbling murmur of the downstairs Tavern below the Inn seemed to fade away as her wondering thoughts took hold of her once again.

She was thrown back into reality as the door opened and closed behind the Grandmaster. Standing to face him, he stood silently by the door; hands placed behind his back like usual.

"It seems there are no other rooms for the night by this one. I understand the circumstances are not ideal but rested assured I am gentlemanly enough to offer you the bed and-"

"That won't be necessary. But thank you, you've done quite enough for me."

The Templar shifted slightly as they quickly went silent again. It was the most they'd talked in days. But the Grandmaster still considered it a triumph that he'd managed to get through to her. Little as though it was. He couldn't understand why but for the first time in what felt like so long, he felt a duty to protect this woman stood before him. Though he wasn't sure if it was for the chance of recruiting her for the Templar order or his own personal reasons.

"I…I hope you understand that I have no desire to cause you any harm."

Amelia found herself speechless. The look in his eyes seemed so genuine but her instincts screamed for her not to trust him. Before she had the chance to reply he'd already left the room, again leaving her with her thoughts.

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The following morning Amelia gently patted the neck of the stunning bay mare by her side as she finished filling the saddle bags. Looking to the Grandmaster who was doing much of the same before they continued their journey, she sighed deeply thinking back to what he'd said the night before. Sleep had taken her not so shortly after, but she had been left wondering what had happened to the Templar after he'd disappeared for the night. She was left wondering if he'd even slept at all. By the straining look in his eyes, she guessed not. He looked exhausted and….conflicted.

Amelia was slightly taken back by the fact that maybe she had actually begun to care about the man. But that would be foolish, she knew better and she wouldn't let herself get pulled in by his false chivalry and compassion.

After hours of silent riding through the now white forest that was covered in snow, they finally reached the crowded streets of Boston. Amelia released a sigh of relief she seemed to be holding for over a week. The horses slowed to a steady trot side by side as she became face to face with the Grandmaster.

He seemed happy to be back but also the shade of disappointment shadowed his face as they came to a stop outside the Green Dragon Inn and dismounted their horses.

"Well it would seem we part ways here, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes…although before you go may I ask you a question?"

Amelia looked on in confusion. What could the Templar possibly want from her now, she felt she'd done more than enough. But her curiosity seemed to get the better of her.

"Alright…"

"Your father…what was his name?"

Amelia slowly glanced up at him. The topic was sensitive for her, everything regarding her father was sensitive for her since his death. Why would the Templar wish to know such a thing?

"I doubt you knew him, he died twenty years ago."

"And yet I wish to know. Please…tell me his name."

"William. William Beckett."

The Templar felt his heart stop as she uttered the name. The ghost of his past haunting him once again. The doubt still clouding his mind as he refused to see what was sitting in front of him.

"No…it's not possible…all these years I believed…impossible."

She saw the pain in his eyes. The confused that washed over him. His wide eyes staring right through her as if she were a ghost.

"Wait, I don't understand. Are you…are you saying you knew my father. That's impossible, you couldn't have been more than a mere child…Unless…you were there that night."

Their eyes met and it clicked. Something in her mind, rushing through her memories. Every one playing over and over like a kaleidoscope in her head. The pain, the loss, the fear. The happiness, the joy and excitement. The distance giggles of children running through the courtyard as they played hide and seek. The mischievous smirks as hid they under the table, stealing cakes while the cook wasn't looking. Sitting in their secret hallway playing with toy soldiers while their fathers talked business in the study upstairs. Her best friend, her only friend. The little boy that lived across the street in Queen Anne's square.

"My god…H-Haytham? No it can't be…"

The confliction inside her tore her apart. The boy she had known all those years ago, now a Templar. An enemy. She could feel her hands trembling as the tears welled in her eyes, shifting further away from him. It hurt to even look at him.

"Mila…"

Amelia let out a small breathless laugh despite herself.

"No one has called me that in years."

Haytham took a step towards her. Taking in every inch of her face. Her long brown hair, same green eyes and glowing smile he remembered so vividly. He couldn't stop the overwhelming joy he felt to see her again. Even surprising himself as stepped forward to embrace her, only just managing to stop himself in time to compose himself.

"Mila I…"

"Don't. Please..."

Haytham couldn't hide the hurt in his eyes as she pulled away from him.

"Amelia please you have understand-"

"I understand nothing….And I have nothing more to say to you."

Without another word Amelia pulled at her horse, its whinny echoing throughout the street. She threw herself on its back. Grabbing the reins and spurring it on to a gallop as she ran from the man she'd once known. From the past life she'd lost so unfairly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi, sorry it's been so long since I've updated. Been really busy but I'm writing and full of ideas so we're good to go. Anyway here's chapter seven I really hope you like it and I hope I don't disappoint. I also apologize in advance if by chance there are any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy and please leave some feedback it really helps and means a lot to me enjoy! :)**

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A single month had passed after Haytham watched Amelia leave and his mind had been clouded ever since. Questions, confusion and exhaustion plagued his body and mind. It was beginning to effect his work; he only hoped that his men had failed to notice. Even the silence of his room seemed too loud as he sat alone at his desk. The sun had long since set and despite his best efforts he still couldn't think straight.

The regular mumbles and laughter sounded from the tavern downstairs, Haytham sighed deeply as he rested his head in his hands in an attempt to stop the room spinning. In the end he finally admitted defeat as he left his room and ventured downstairs and out into the cold winter night. The city of Boston lay bare from the fresh snow fall, appearing as a blank canvas. Looking out at the night sky he slowly began to feel at peace, the icy flakes fluttered from the sky delicately landing upon his face.

Although he'd managed to calm his racing mind, he still couldn't help but feel he was being watched. The scuffling above and shower of falling snow from the roof caused him to flinch as he noticed a hooded figure leaping away across the joined buildings, he didn't hesitate to follow. Fast on his feet as he quickly climbed a ladder and took off after them. They gave chase, skidding on the icy titles and careful footing with each jump and landing before running towards the next roof.

Haytham didn't slow for a second, racing after them. The hooded figure turned against a ledge, falling back as they came to a dead-end. Leaning forward preparing to jump to the cart of hay below. Haytham froze in his tracks, staring at the figure catching a mere glimpse of her face beneath their hood.

"Wait!"

The figure stopped cold. Panting for lost breath, they stood looking at the midnight moon above them before slowly turning to face Haytham.

"Amelia…"

"Haytham…"

Haytham cleared his throat as he took a second to look at her. Sore eyes, the tip of her red nose from the cold; she looked just as exhausted as he did. It seemed that neither of them had had any sleep in the month they'd been apart.

"I'm glad you decided to return to Boston."

"I almost didn't…All these years Haytham, I-I thought you were dead."

"And I you. I often wondered what would have happened if I'd gone back for you. To the rescue the only friend I ever had. But I was just a boy."

"And I was just a girl. We were both so young and lost so much that night. When we moved here shortly after, mother said it was second chance. But I just wanted my old life back; I couldn't understand why it had been taken from me. And I…I don't understand why Haytham…Why you-"

"-I'll tell you. Only allow me the time to explain."

Amelia looked Haytham in the eyes, before sitting by the ledge overlooking the city. Glancing back at Haytham, a ghost of a smile appearing against her lips.

"Alright…"

Haytham hesitated as he took a seat beside her, the right words trying to bring the story together in his mind. Amelia sat patiently as she listened to his every word, as he told her of the Templars, of Reginald Birch, of Pointy Ears, what he knew of their fathers' murders. She sighed deeply looking out at the sleeping city.

"Haytham when you knew who your father truly was; who my father was…why did you stay? Why stay with them all these years?"

"I doubt any answer I could give you would be satisfying and I'm sure your years of Assassin training are telling you not to trust me. But believe me Mila when I say I will never harm you."

Amelia couldn't help but smile at the use of her nickname.

"It's not you I don't trust Haytham, it's them."

Haytham looked out as she gestured towards the Green Dragon Tavern.

"So many Assassins dead, how would they feel learning of one sat at their very doorstep?"

"You needn't worry about that. For as long as I can help it, they shall not know of you."

Amelia nodded with a smile as she rose to her feet.

"I should go. But before I do, I have a favor to ask of you…"

"Oh?"

"Meet me at the market tomorrow morning, there's something you must see."

Amelia didn't allow Haytham the time to answer as she took off once again. Leaving Haytham alone with his thoughts, memories of the past awoken within his mind. As he made his way back to the Tavern he felt he could finally sleep for the first time in weeks.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, thank you for the faves and follows. It's nice to know people are enjoying this story, I know its been a while since my last update sorry about that. I'm really getting back into my writing now, so I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. Honestly I am a bit nervous about posting it so I hope you like it. I have edited but I apologize in advance for any spelling errors.**

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Six o'clock in the morning and the town was already astir. Newspaper vendors with loads of paper on their carts, make their rounds shouting out the latest headlines. The people of Boston crowded the street market and grocery stores. The echo of horse's hooves clicking against the cobble roads while Redcoats march back and forth through the winding streets like toy soldiers. The weeks had quickly gone by, the year already creeping into its third month. Haytham had continued his secret meetings with Amelia regarding them as _'personal business'_ should any of his men ever asked where he was disappearing to. He didn't quite understand why he felt he had to lie about it. He could have been somewhat honest and claim he was simply meeting with an old friend or acquaintance. But he knew the dark truth of the matter; should they find out he was meeting with an Assassin of all people.

Even after a short time, the meetings had quickly become routine. The two of them out on morning walks, quiet evenings spent drinking in local taverns, scaling rooftops at night as they sat under the stars discussing where the last twenty years had taken them both. It was as if no time had passed for the Assassin and Templar; old memories of innocent childhood to be relived over and over. The sense of normality that neither had experienced in years.

And yet Amelia was scared. Scared that the Templars would once again take away her best friend, her family. She was well-aware of the skills Haytham possessed, but he couldn't keep her out of the Templars sights for long. He had promised on the rooftop all those nights ago that they would never come to know of her. And now he promised they would never know of her mother living alone in their very city.

She remembered the day her mother first saw Haytham, the pale whiteness of her skin as she looked upon the grown boy she had believed to be dead. The tears of joy that quickly followed as she pinched his cheeks and ruffled his hair just as she did all those years ago.

'_My dear boy you have grown! The spitting image of your father, just as handsome too.' _

Haytham only smiled as she continued her stories of Edward and Amelia's father, had proud the fathers would be of the adults their children had grown into as she disappeared into the kitchen to make tea.

Late one afternoon Amelia had managed to take a moment to herself from her mother's weekly tales and tea as she sat alone in the attic. The sound of creaking stairs startled her she stood to see Haytham in the doorway.

"Amelia are you alright?"

Haytham paused as he glanced at the wall, covered with letters, pages, maps, portraits and endless notes.

"What is all this?"

"Research…although I suppose after all these years it's become somewhat of an obsession. I know what happened that night, but I need to know why. At first I didn't know how to start; where to start. Until my mother found a box of my father's possessions. It contained letters from my father; letters from your father. Books, notes, journals; anything I could find. You probably think me foolish but I-

"No. I don't, because for years I have done the same Amelia."

"You… have?"

Haytham took a deep breath as he took a seat beside her.

"Those men took Jenny; for years I have tried to find her and come up with nothing."

Amelia sighed, her heart racing. The two both glanced up at the wall as they gazed at the portraits of the two men blankly staring back, with the engraved names placed underneath the frames. _Edward Kenway. William Beckett.  
_  
"I still remember it even now. The night of your tenth birthday I believe."

Haytham let out a small chuckle looking back at Amelia, her eyes lighting up as she smiled.

"I remember because you were so happy with the gift I gave you. Mother said if I wanted to buy you a gift I had to pay for it myself, I saved every piece of coin I could for weeks. What was it I gave you?"

"Another toy soldier, though it wasn't part of the set. It was always a little taller than the others. Thinking back I...I believed it burned in the fire."

"Yes. I suppose..I suppose it must have. Shame really. Although I myself don't have much of anything from our home in London."

The two soon grew quiet as the memories came back. Such happiness was quickly replaced with the pain they'd both carried with them for over two decades. It seemed time hadn't healed the wounds, both wanted answers, both wanted justice. They sat in the silence never taking their eyes off one another, nothing more needed to be said.

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**Sorry this chapter is a bit short but I am in the process of writing the next three chapters so more coming soon, please review.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hope everyone is enjoying Dying Embers so far. Here's chapter 9, I hope it doesn't disappoint. Also I apologize in advance for any spelling mistakes. Enjoy. **

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Amelia shivered against the cold, the early morning air caressing her face as she made her way through the winding streets of Boston. After receiving a rather ominous letter from Haytham she had begun to feel anxious. It was the first time they'd met in weeks. After cautiously keeping their distance from the prying eyes of their fellow Templars and Assassins. It was always difficult seeing one another with the risk of being caught. Though it seemed to matter little to the two when they were lost in their old stories and nostalgia of it all. Amelia found Haytham stood alone by the docks, she noticed his face soften into a smile as she approached him.

"You wanted to see me."

"Yes I require an artefact. A pendent..."

"You speak of the key to the lost precursor sites?"

Haytham smirked as he let out a deep sigh.

"Of course you know of it. It was taken a few nights ago and although the Templars no longer wish to pursue these sites; it is important I obtain the key in order to ensure its safety that it may never be used again."

"We Assassins know a lot Haytham. And if you're implying my Assassins stole your artefact I assure you that isn't the case. If any did however it was through no order of mine."

Haytham stood with his hands rested behind his back as always. His face fell blank as he look out at the ocean.

"I see."

"If you require assistance to locate this key however; you need only to ask."

"You'd… be willing to aid the Templars Amelia?"

"I'm not helping the Templars Haytham; I'm helping _you_. I will speak with my contacts here then we should probably consider searching elsewhere; New York is well known for its merchants."

"Very well. Make it so, I will arrange transportation for New York."

Amelia smiled to herself as she watched Haytham leave. Taking a deep breath she took a moment; glancing out across the ocean. The buzz of life continuing around her, fishermen, sailors and civilians blurring around her as she pulled her cloak even tighter around her arms and chest to shield from the cold. The sky rumbled overhead as drips of rain began to fall. She tugged her hood over her head as she departed for the underground tunnels of the city. Her contacts weren't the easiest people to track down but she knew where to best take her chances.

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It was midday when the young Assassin made her way back to the Grandmaster. Her contacts had proven useful after learning that someone had indeed attempted to sell the pendant before leaving for New York in the early hours. Amelia and Haytham were quick to follow in his tracks in an effort to find the thief.

New York was an active city; even more so than Boston and twice in size. But given their skills, it hadn't taken them long to pick up the thief's trail soon after arriving in the city. After a day of searching the two had managed to track down the thief's accomplice. The man was tall, slender and incredibly well-dressed given his occupation; after undoubtedly living off the fortune of others. He swallowed nervously as he shuddered under Haytham's hold on him. Pinned against an ally wall, his eyes darted between Templar and Assassin as he trembled with fear against the hidden blade held to his neck.

"I'll ask once more, where is your boss?"

"I can't tell. She'll kill me."

Amelia smirked as she leaned against the wall beside the man with crossed arms.

"Well if you don't. _He'll _kill you, you'd better pick your poison."

The man gulped in fear as he looked back to Haytham, before giving in with a loud sigh.

"Abigale Lawton. She lives in that big mansion on the top of the hill. I knew that pendant was more trouble than it was worth! This is nothin' to do with me, I never met the woman!"

"We're told you're her accomplice… yet you never met? How can that be?"

"I'm a hired thief! I do the jobs that I'm paid to do, whatever pays the most. We only contact through letters."

"I see. So I assume the two of you are yet to meet about this pendant of mine then?"

"She's throwing a ball tonight. I arranged for the pendent to be presented to her this evening when we met."

Haytham glanced to Amelia, the look in her eye told him they both had the same idea in mind as he flicked his wrist quickly ending the accomplice's life.

"Very well."

The two took a step back after his lifeless body slumped to the ground. Haytham wiped his blade clean as Amelia looted through the man's pockets before finding the documents she was looking for. She glanced back at Haytham handing him the papers.

"His name was Jacob Harrison."

"If what he said was correct, Lady Lawton won't know the face of the man she's expecting this evening. Meaning this absurd plan of yours may work."

A playful look lit up Amelia's face as she moved toe to toe with Haytham, shamelessly daring to look him straight in the eyes.

"I don't recall mentioning anything of a plan Haytham."

"You didn't need to. I know you well enough to know what's going through that head of yours."

The young Assassin giggled at Haytham's smug attitude as the two left the ally and began making their way back into the city. She never would have admitted it but he was right in what he said. The two had been inseparable as children and the bond had appeared to carry them through to adulthood. Both knew each-other inside out.

"Fancy attending a ball tonight _Master Harrison?"_

Haytham chuckled as noticed the smug grin that sat upon Amelia's lips.

"Indeed I would Miss Beckett."


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you so much for the faves and follows and reviews. They mean a lot to me. Here is chapter 10 I hope you like it. I have edited but I apologize for any spelling mistakes. Enjoy!**

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Lady Lawton's home was certainly a sight to be seen on the night of her ball. The hallways filled with priceless paintings and statues. Golden chandeliers hung from the sculptured ceilings. The guests finely dressed in the best gowns and suits; dancing gracefully in the ballroom, floating across the marble floor almost effortlessly.

Amelia gripped tightly to Haytham's arm as they entered the grand ballroom. The affair in itself was intimidating given that it was the first ball she had ever attended. He flashed her a small smile of reassurance, settling her nerves. She pulled at the bow on her gown, shuffling in her tight corset that didn't fit right at all. She was never the kind of woman that worn dresses, Amelia preferred the comfort of shirt and breeches along with her Assassin robes. Not to mention the fact that the wretched gown of hers fit to tightly for her hidden blades, leaving her completely defenseless. A small squeeze on her arm broke her cursing mind as she glanced to see Haytham smirking at her before leaning in to whisper in her ear against the sound of chattering guests and flowing music.

"That dress may be uncomfortable for you my dear, but you look beautiful."

Amelia laughed in spite of herself, the annoyed tone fading from her voice.

"I'm glad you find this so amusing. Perhaps next time you can suffer and wear the corset."

Haytham chuckled leading them both into the grand ballroom before releasing her arm and stood with his hands placed behind his back.

"Keep any eye out for Lady Lawton. No doubt she'll be greeting her guests."

Amelia let out a restricted breath as her eyes scanned across the room. She watched as couples danced together, the closeness and romance of it all was something she had never seen before. She found it captivating. Glancing back to Haytham she noticed him wandering to the far side of the room as he greeted a young woman no older then her. Taking her by the hand and a charming smile.

"Lady Lawton, Jacob Harrison at your service."

"Ah Master Harrison, glad to finally put a face to the name. Your reputation certainly precedes you. I was quite impressed with your work to obtain the pendent I asked for."

"I only aim to please my lady. I believe my men were to present you with the pedant this evening."

Lady Lawton smiled as pointed to a small door by the end of the ballroom.

"They did indeed. It was placed within my study, but you needn't worry about that now."

"Of course my lady. My apologies."

"Nonsense. I would however wish to speak with you of further business opportunities, given your skills I believe there will be a great future for us as business partners."

"I would be delighted Lady Lawton."

Lady Lawton clasped her hands together in delight before looping her arm over Haytham's and led him towards the center of the room.

"Excellent, would you care to discuss it over a dance perhaps?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Haytham bowed before taking Lady Lawton his arms and began to dance with her across the ballroom. Amelia caught his eye as he gestured towards the door leading to the study. She gave a quick nod before making her way from the crowded ballroom.

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The heavy door muffled the loud music of the sting trio and gossiping guests as Amelia cautiously walked down the dark hallway. Her footsteps echoed on the marble floor and thick rugs that led from room to room.

She quietly crept through the study door, carefully closing it behind her. The study was rather large, with a grand desk centered in the middle of the room surrounded by wooden cabinets and old book cases. Amelia paced around the room taking every inch. She quickly got to work looking through the draws and cabinets, every box, every compartment Until finally finding a small box, she pulled it open reveling the green disc that hung on a single black string.

Taking into her hands, Amelia froze.

_"What are you doing Amelia?!"_

She hissed at herself as she looked upon the pendant within her hand. Helping Haytham was one thing but he was the Templar Grandmaster. This could be considered betrayal to her Assassins, to everything she stood for. She knew in that moment she could very easily leave. She could take the pendent to the Assassin Bureau and end all ties with Haytham...but Amelia found for the first time; she didn't care. After a lifetime of fighting and putting her faith in the creed, she didn't care anymore. The weeks they had spent together, the talk of Assassins and Templars had never once entered their minds. In the moments they were alone; they were no longer Grandmaster and Assassin Mentor. They were just Amelia and Haytham.

He was just a man. A friend. A friend she trusted her very life with. And the thought of betraying Haytham weighted heavier than the thought of ever betraying her own Creed.

Looking back at the study door, with Haytham only in the next room. She knew she been given a choice in that single moment. It was her Creed or Haytham. And without even a second of hesitation, she choose Haytham as she made her way back to the ball.

Looking around the dancing crowd that sweep through the ballroom, she struggled to place him. Spotting Lady Lawton now standing with a drink in her hand and sharing with a laugh with a group of well-dressed young ladies, Amelia held up the hem of her dress and wandered along the outskirts of the party. A sudden gentle touch against her hand caused her to flinch as she turned to find Haytham.

"Ah there you are. Shall we go?"

Lost for words against the racing beats of her own heart, she simply nodded as he took hold of her hand and walked her out into the courtyard.

"Were you successful in retrieving the pedant?"

Amelia smiled as she handed him the artefact.

"Have I ever given you reason to doubt me? I trust you'll make sure this doesn't go missing a second time, I'd hate to do this all over again Haytham."

Haytham chuckled as he placed the pedant in his pocket before walking them back to their Inn for the night.

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**Please Review **


	11. Chapter 11

**I didn't think it was possible to write as much as I have since posting my last chapter but I'm completely wrapped in this world with Haytham and Amelia right now that I just have to keep writing their story. These next few chapters are set from the book forsaken, so if you haven't read it; it may be somewhat difficult to follow though I have tried my best to explain things as simply as I can but to a point that it makes sense. Anyway here's chapter 11 I hope you enjoy it and I hope I don't disappoint. I also wanted to point out that I'm going on my own timeline of events in this story so it won't match up completely to the book or the games storyline. I hope that doesn't doesn't ruin it for anyone. Just to let people know, currently through the past chapters and the next few Haytham is 30 and Amelia is 29 in my head. Enjoy**

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The lulling sounds of a crackling fire was the only sound that surrounded Haytham. He sits quietly rubbing his hands together, his numb skin desperate for heat as he blows the last of his warmed breath into his trembling palms. Alone in his quiet little room, his mind races; replaying everything that brought him to this tiny cottage.

'_I have found her.'_

Those were the only words on the letter, but they were enough for Haytham and Amelia to tie all loose ends in New York before traveling to meet his friend Jim Holden. Amelia found Holden to be a kind and decent man, who remained deeply loyal to Haytham. It was an obvious realization that she and Holden were the only true friends Haytham had left in the world.

Rescuing Jenny from the hands of the slavers had proven difficult but possible. Haytham remembered the look of relief as she stared at him, her eyes growing wider, misting up tears as the years fell away and she recognized him. Her little brother finally coming to take her away from it all. It had come as an equal shock to recognize the young woman stood by his side as little Amelia Beckett.

It had all happened so quickly when the guards were called. Holden, Amelia and Haytham had managed to kill a handful of guards between them before the swarm burst into view ready to challenge them. He remembered Jenny screaming at them to go. It had all been too much to think, Holden had insisted that they leave without him as he held the guards back. Though Haytham had held much reluctance in leaving the man to fight alone, he had practically pushed him and the girls out the door to safety before taking the guards head on.

Learning later on that Holden had not be killed but captured, Haytham traveled to Egypt with a heavy heart of what he would find. Arriving at the Abou Gerbe monastery on Mount Gehel Eter, he couldn't have even imagined the state he would find Holden in. The utter disgust and shock that sat with him even now when he witnessed himself just what the men had done to this friend. The guilt weighted heavily in the pit of his stomach. But even then Holden didn't hold Haytham responsible for anything. He insisted that it had been his decision to stay. To fight alone. But that didn't lessen the guilt Haytham felt as watched his friend grow unconscious from the pain he endured before he managed to take him from the accursed place and back to safety.

Now back at the tiny cottage, Haytham took a shaken breath as he stood from his seat by the fire and made his way back into the main living room; where Amelia and Jenny sat at a table with the remains of a meal and a single candle between them. Not far away, Holden slept, feverish and every now and then Haytham would change the rag on his forehead for a cooler one.

"Our fathers were Assassins."

Jenny said as Haytham took a seat beside Amelia.

"I know."

"You know?"

"Yes. I found out as did Amelia."

Jenny pursed her lips and shifted uncomfortably.

"But if you both knew then why does Birch live?"

"Why would he be dead?"

"He's a Templar."

"As am I."

She reared back, fury clouding her face as she looked between Haytham and Amelia.

"_YOU! - You're _a Templar! Amelia tell me you're not-"

"No. I am not a Templar. I'm an Assassin as our fathers were."

"Well, thank god one of you has some sense in your head. Haytham that goes against everything father ever-"

Haytham signed deeply, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes I am a Templar Jenny, but it doesn't go against everything our father believed. Amelia and I have come to realize that the Templars and Assassins perhaps aren't as different as we'd like to think."

He stopped. Jenny was slightly drunk, there was something sloppy about her features all of a sudden. She moved forward with her cup in her hands and made a disgusted noise to match the glare she sent towards him.

"And what of _him? _My former fiancé, owner of my heart; the dashing and charming Reginald Birch? What of him prey tell?"

"Reginald is my mentor, my Grand Master. It was he who looked after me in the years after the attack."

Jenny's face twisted into the nastiest, most bitter sneer Haytham had ever seen.

"Well aren't you the lucky one? Am I to believe your lovely little Assassin over here is to know about all this?"

"Yes. Haytham told me, we discussed everything that happened to both of us in the years after the attack."

"I see. Well Haytham while you being _mentored_, I was being looked after too- by Turkish slavers."

Haytham felt as if Jenny could see right through him, as though she could see exactly what his priorities had been all these years. He dropped his eyes then looked across the cottage to where Holden lay then back to Amelia and Jenny. A room full of his failings.

"I'm sorry."

He said quietly. As if to all three of the people he felt he had let down.

"I'm truly sorry."

"Don't be. I was one of the lucky ones."

Finished, she hoisted the beaker of wine to her lips and glugged. He wondered what awful memories the drink helped suppress.

"It was your friends the Templars who attacked our homes, I'm sure of it."

"No they weren't Templars Jenny. I've run into them since, they were men for hire. Mercenaries."

Jenny scoffed in reply as she set down her now empty beaker on the table. Haytham gave a quick side glance to Amelia before leaning forward in his seat.

"I was told that father had something- something they wanted. Do you know what it was?"

"Yes. It was a book. Brown, leather-bound, bearing the seal of the Assassins."

In that moment Haytham's blood ran cold. He felt frozen, numb. Things began to make sense to him. Everything he had known- his entire childhood, all of it built on a foundation of lies. Growing up William Beckett had been like a second father to him as had Edward to Amelia. The two families were bonded as one. Two head of houses, Assassins; brothers. And Reginald had once been considered a great friend and ally to them both.

"The book you saw that night Jenny, Reginald has it."

"So it was he who organized the raid on our houses. They were looking for that book."

"I suppose given our fathers' close friendship, they each shared the responsibility of protecting the book. There would've been no way of knowing which had possession of the book that night."

"So Reginald is responsible for both the death of your father and mine."

The room grew silent. But the pain of loss, betrayal and anger screamed volumes. Haytham's heart ached as his hands trembled. His breath sharpened when Amelia softly took hold of them in her own. As their eyes met yet more guilt tugged at Haytham.

"It was Reginald that told me Amelia. It was he who told me you had died that night along with your father."

"That doesn't matter now Haytham... I'm here now aren't I?"

Haytham gave a weak smile rising from his chair as he moved to soak the rag from Holden before placing it back on his forehead.

"When his fever has broken, we'll leave."

"To go where?"

"To France."


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you so much for the lovely reviews, faves and follows I'm so grateful. Here is chapter 12, I hope you like it and I hope it doesn't disappoint. I apologize in advance if there are any spelling mistakes. Anyways hope you enjoy!**

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Though it was cold, the sun was shining on the third morning after they'd arrived in France. As the four rode through the countryside; they remained silent. Haytham's heart and mind continued to race from the moment they'd have left the cottage. Not far behind was Holden; he sagged forward a little in his saddle, his complexion pale, sallow and haunted. He had said little since recovering from his fever. There had been moments- tiny glimpse of the old Holden; a fleeting smile, a flash of his London wisdom- but they were fleeting and he would soon return to being closed off. Much like Amelia and Jenny. The two had also reminded quiet for most of the journey. Jenny still bitter from the life that been stolen from her; her years of youth gone. Amelia left numb from the truth that had lied buried for years only now to be uncovered all at once.

As they came close to Reginald's Chateau Haytham saw the first of the patrols. The guard stood in front of his horse and addressed him before he went to put his fingers to his mouth. Haytham was quick to leap from his horse, killing the guard as he let his body slump to the ground.

Jenny frowned at her brother, her eyes slightly wide from shock.

"Do you mind telling us what _that _was all about?"

"He was about to whistle."

Amelia quickly answered as she shared a knowing look with Haytham. He gave a hesitated nod before mounting his horse again.

"He didn't whistle last time. They know we're coming, they're expecting us."

"Well then, let's not keep them waiting."

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It had proven rather difficult to infiltrate the Chateau given how many men Reginald had employed to guard the estate. Even with the skills Amelia and Haytham equally processed it had not been enough to keep them unnoticed. The Chateau was on full alert, they'd been seen. From the Chateau there came a loud shout and in the next instant was the sharp report of musket fire and balls smacking into the fountain the four had attempted to take cover behind. Haytham ran for it, towards the front door bursting through and rolling into the entrance hall. From the landing above came the crack of musket fire, but gunman had aimed too high as the ball smacked harmlessly into the wood. In an instant Haytham was on his feet and charging towards the stairway, bounding up towards the landing, where the sniper abandoned his musket in a yell of frustration before pulling his sword from its sheath and coming towards him.

There was terror in the guard's eyes, more animal than man. In the moments Haytham had killed him and toppled his body over the banister to the entrance hall below, another guard had arrived just in time to meet Holden as he burst through the front door with Amelia and Jenny close behind him. The three took on guard after guard, the slashing of swords and rumbles of musket fire heard throughout the home. Though it had been a pressing war, it ended rather quickly soon after it started. The muskets lay silent in the hands of dead men and the Red-coated bodies littered the floor.

Haytham drew his sword as they slowly approached Reginald's door. Reginald stood, dressed at the center of his chamber. Just like him, always a stickler for etiquette- he had dressed to meet his killers.

There was suddenly a shadow on the wall, cast by a figure behind the door. Rather than waiting for the trap to be sprung Amelia rammed her sword through the wood, hearing a scream of pain before swinging the door closed with the body of a guard pinned to it. Glancing back at Haytham there was small gleam in his eyes before it faded blank as he glared at Reginald.

"Haytham." Reginald greeted coolly.

"Was he the last of the guards?"

"Yes. Just me now."

Reginald smiled a long slow sad smile.

"I did what I did for the good of the Order, Haytham. For the good of humanity."

"At the expense of my father's life. Of Amelia's father. You destroyed our families! Did you think I'd never find out?"

"My dear boy, as Grand Master you have had to make difficult decisions. Did I not teach you that? I promoted you to Grand Master of the Colonial Rite knowing that you too would have to make similar decisions and having faith in your ability to make them Haytham. Decisions made in the pursuit of the greater good. In the pursuit of an ideal you share remember? You ask, did I think you'd ever find out? And of course the answer is yes. I had to consider that one day you'd learn the truth but I hoped that when that day arrived you'd take a more philosophical view. Though given the body count, I'm to assume disappointment in that regard?"

Haytham gave a dry laugh standing side by side Jenny and Amelia.

"Indeed. Indeed you are. What you did is a corruption of everything I believe in and do you know why? You did it not with the application of our ideals but with deceit. How can we inspire belief when what we have in our heart is lies?"

"Oh come on, that's native rubbish. I'd have expected it of you as a young Adept but now? During a war you do what you can do to secure victory. It's what you do with that victory that counts."

"No. We must practice what we preach. Otherwise our words are hollow."

Reginald scoffed as he crossed his arms, a look of disappointment clouding his face.

"There speaks the Assassin in you boy."

"I'm not ashamed of my Assassin roots. I've had years to reconcile my Assassin blood with my Templar beliefs and I have done so."

Reginald let out a sharp chuckle as he looked to Amelia, disgust and hatred burning in his eyes.

"Yes I can see that. And how are you Amelia? I'm honestly surprised you managed to survive all those years ago. And here I thought I'd taken care of every loose end."

Haytham gently tugged on Amelia's arm as she moved forward, her eyes softening as they met his own.

"Ah so this is it? You think you can change things Haytham?"

Jenny was quick to storm forward with a sharp blade in her hand.

"No Reginald, killing you is to take revenge for what you have done to us all."

"Hello Jenny, time has not withered you I see. And your life as a concubine, was it a rewarding time for you? I should imagine you got to see so much of the world; so many different people and varied cultures…"

Haytham knew he was trying goad both Jenny and Amelia and given the way the two women were shaking with anger; it was working. Jenny broke forward first, moving to slash at him with her knife. He quickly dodged the attack; pushing her to the ground in a heap. Holden moved to defend her shielding her for any harm as Amelia lunged at the traitor. Reginald reacted almost instantly pulling a blade of his own from his belt and taking hold of the young Assassin. Haytham froze as Reginald held the blade to Amelia's neck. Keeping the knife to her throat he moved towards the door, the expression on his face from triumph to frustration as she began to struggle. Haytham moved cautiously towards the two, the sickening feeling that plagued him all those years ago once again in the pit of his stomach. He was back to the same ten year old boy unable to save his best friend.

"Uh-uh. Not another step or your pretty little Assassin dies."

Amelia roughly elbowed the man in the gut before looping her leg around his, tripping him as she moved out his firm grip. The blade fell from his hand as he doubled back falling against the desk, a discarded sword impaling him through the chest as he fell. Amelia scrabbled to her feet as Haytham pulled her into his arms and both turned to see the man that destroyed their families slowly slide from the sword to the floor, his hands at the hold in his chest; blood soaking his clothes and already pooling on the floor. Haytham slowly kneeled beside him as his breaths became shallow and forced.

"I tried to do what was right Haytham. Surely you can understand that?"

"No."

He watched as the light faded in his eyes. Reginald Birch was dead.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey, thank you so much for the faves, follows and lovely reviews. It honestly means the world to me; writing this story is so much fun for me and I hope that you're enjoying it. I hope you like this chapter, please don't hate me for the ending (you'll see ;D) I have such a big plot for this story. Here's chapter 13 enjoy! :)**

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After the events in France it seemed that time had escaped them as the months had begun to bring a pleasant spring along with them. After Reginald's death the four had stayed in France to heal and allow themselves to take a much needed breath of relief that their ongoing nightmares had finally been laid to rest. Though the pain had not only been skin deep, Holden had taken his own life after what the Coptic Priests had done to him not long after, leaving Haytham to grieve at the loss of his friend.

Jenny had returned to London, to her rightful place in Queen Anne's Square. Her relationship with her once estranged brother now only ever improving as the siblings kept in contact with their frequent letters.

Amelia and Haytham had shortly after returned to America where Haytham has managed to find his own Homestead in Virginia. Amelia found herself staying at the estate more often than not as the two had grown somewhat accustomed to staying together.

The morning was bright and beautiful, the land coloured a rainbow by the springtime's touch. Amelia stood at the cliff's edge overlooking the calm blue sea. With the wind sweeping around her, loose hairs from her plait dancing against her face she closed her eyes; her arms spread out wide as her cloak glided against the air. Flittering around her small frame, soaring through the breeze allowing her wings to fly. She felt free, captivated by the feeling. Her eyes drifted open to gaze out at the scene below, the crashing of the waves and the warm wind's touch against her sun kissed skin. A small content smile matched the deep refreshing breath as she bathed in her tranquility.

She was so immersed in her own little world by the sea, that she hadn't noticed Haytham watching her from his study window. A small smile of amusement playing on his lips. It was the first time he'd smiled in a long while. In the weeks they'd returned, Haytham had kept to himself mostly. Amelia had offered words of comfort but ultimately left him alone to the time that he spent locked away.

She understood that he needed time. That he was grieving. He grieved for the death of his loyal friend, for the childhood that been had stolen from him, he grieved for Reginald's betrayal and for the man he had been. In such short years so much had changed and he had begun to think of himself not so much as a Templar, but a man with Assassin roots and Templar beliefs. Though his Templar side had slowly begun to fade. What was once a man so focused on purpose, order and victory; he had found that those things held very little importance to him now.

Gazing out at the land of the Homestead and the life he had slowly built for himself, the _pretty little Assassin_ was the one thing that brought the light through the grey. He had known her from the day of her birth and they had grown a bond unlike any other. Knowing one another inside and out as they did had brought that bond to a trust that seemed never to be broken. The trust had eventually evolved into admiration, that which bloomed into something Haytham could only ever confess within his own mind as love.

A confession never to be made out loud of course. He was smart enough to know the outcome of such an affair. Not to mention the doubts in mind of Amelia ever returning his affections. Haytham was a practical man, a smart man. He knew better than to waste his time with such a ridiculous notion.

In the time he had been lost in his thoughts, he realised Amelia had left her tranquil state and decided on returning to the house. A rushed breath gasped from his lips as he moved from his spot by the window, instead taking the time to sit writing in his journal. Over the years and even as a young boy he had found that writing down his thoughts had made it easier to make sense of them.

Often times so cryptic and clouded, he could read back and relive every feeling; every moment as if it had only just occurred. The creaking of the floorboards broke his concentration as his eyes were met with a very bright-eyed, very wind-swept Amelia leaning against the doorframe.

"Even after all these years, you still keep a journal I see."

"The only way to organize my thoughts it would seem."

Amelia smiled as she wondered into the study, her eyes exploring the pictures and portraits that decorated the walls.

"Do you...ever write about me?"

Haytham watched her intently, the way she moved about the room. Reserved and quiet. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips.

"Sometimes."

"All good things I hope."

He let out a deep chuckle, earning a soft smile in return as he placed his quill on the desk.

"All...very good things I assure you."

"Good."

Amelia didn't give another word as she left the room. Leaving to Haytham to wallow in his hopeless heart's desire.

In the following days Amelia had returned to Boston to spend some much needed time with her mother. The Grand Master then once again resuming his duties after calling for a meeting at the Green Dragon Inn. The meeting had carried into the late afternoon, the beginnings of the sun set creeping in through high windows; casting shadows throughout the Tavern. Looking out at the men in his command, he found himself rather bored with the company. William Johnson lost in his notes, Benjamin Church leaning back in his chair; his face blank of all emotion. Charles Lee taking great interest in the discussion and Thomas Hickey with a tankard gripped tightly in his hand as he ogled at the young barmaid passing between tables. All these men and yet not one of them was a tenth of the man Holden had been. Haytham was sick of them he realized, heartily sick of them.

Resuming the role of his authority he continued with the matters raised throughout the meeting, finally able to concluded shortly after the beginnings of nightfall.

"And as I'm sure you're all aware, the matter of the persecutor key being stolen was finally resolved to a very pleasing end. Thankfully the thief was found, the artefact itself is now kept under lock and key. And should any further problems arise I expect them to be dealt with most accordingly. As I have nothing further to add; that will be all. Thank you for your time Gentlemen."

"Actually Sir, there is something I wish to add."

Haytham returned to his seat as he gestured for the others to sit as well, all eyes now falling on Charles Lee as he remained stood at the table.

"Of course Charles, what is it you wish to discuss?"

"I'd say it's more of an announcement really Sir, if you please."

He didn't offer a reply as he waited for Charles to continue.

"It is well known that my family values tradition. My parent's marriage was arranged as was their parents before them. And it seems it now falls to me to carry on this tradition."

Hickey took this as his moment to raise his tankard, spilling half the ale in the process. Letting out a deep slurred giggle as he nudged Charles with his elbow.

"OH! You getting' hitched ay Charlie?"

Charles chose not to rise to Hickey's drunken state as he inched towards the door of the Tavern, straighten his jacket and clearing his throat.

"Indeed I am. Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce my fiancée…"

The Templars cheered in celebration, clinking their drinks together. Haytham found himself somewhat taken in by the joyful moment, though it was incredibly short-lived when he saw the woman enter through the door and take Charles' hand.

"…Miss Amelia Beckett."


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you so much for all the comments on ch 13, I love a good cliffhanger :) haha anyway I hope you enjoy this next chapter, already in the process of writing ch 15 and I'm so excited to continue. Here's chapter 14 I hope you like it. **

The Tavern was abuzz with celebrations drowned in the clinking of ale mugs and music. Though to Haytham the joy fell flat to a hum of white noise. For him to realize his love for Amelia only for her to then be taken away from him, hurt more than any blade or bullet piercing him through the heart. He watched from afar as she spoke with his fellow Templars, all the while by Charles' side. Her forced smiles and timid laughs as she accepted congratulations on an engagement she did not want. He watched the way Charles paraded her around like a prize he'd won and felt his insides burning from anger and jealousy, it was not a trait that suited the Grand Master as his heart ached every time Charles touched her. His blood boiling as he placed his arm around Amelia's waist, pulling her close. The Assassin and Templar never got the chance to speak to one another and though wished he'd been given the chance; he considered it a blessing given his feelings on the matter.

The celebrations ended not too long after, Charles had excused himself and Amelia leaving in order to meet with their parents. The days passed and Haytham hadn't seen nor heard from Amelia. It seemed the very thought of seeing her only filled him with dread now. To see the woman he loved in the arms of another man had been almost too difficult to bare and after everything they'd been through together it wasn't worth the pain it brought him.

In a feeble attempt to escape his own mind Haytham left Boston and traveled back to Virginia, days and weeks of wondering around his empty home; the silence haunting him. He had taken time to write; but never seemed to be able to put his thoughts down on paper. It always ended with him losing his temper with the wretched journal and throwing it across the room, along with anything else that lay on his desk. His frustration was getting the better of him and he felt foolish for it. For loving Amelia in the ridiculous way that he had, for falling for an Assassin of all people and for letting such an absurd emotion get the better of him.

A month had passed during his stay at his settlement and he was no better for it. He was battling against his own mind and losing, it still refused to give him peace as memories replayed themselves continuously, bringing with them more heartache and pain. On the last day of spring, Haytham finally received word from Amelia; the single envelope held weight as he pondered what she could possibly have to say. Taking a seat as his desk he reluctantly tore the letter open before reading it.

_Dear Haytham,_

_I feel I owe you an explanation, although I'm ashamed to say I don't have one. When I went to visit my mother, she had already arranged everything. I suppose it goes without saying that she is unaware of Templars and Assassins and I intend to keep it that way, more for her safety than my own. I have spent weeks playing a part that has never suited me and never shall. The forced smiles and false happiness have all become quite tiring. _

_This is a life I never wanted and now it has been forced upon me, I find myself lost. I understand your feelings on the matter were expectedly betrayal and confusion. Perhaps even anger, I wouldn't say I blame you and I realize now why you acted so cold that night. I deserved it and would understand if you never wished to see me again. _

_Forgive me,_

_Amelia_

If it was possible Haytham's heart shattered all over again. Was this really her opinion him? Did she really believe he would come to hate her for something that was beyond her control? He released a heavy breath he didn't realize he was holding. Against the dull flicker of a single candle and a heavy heart, he began to write back.

_Dear Amelia, _

_You needn't explain yourself to me…I admit the engagement did come as a surprise, one I could never have expected. But I understand completely it was none of your own-doing. I apologize for my cold demeanor but you must understand that no one must know of our involvement; our history. Least of all Charles. If they were to know of your Assassin roots, I fear it would only put you in harm's way for which I could never forgive myself. And you are mistaken if you believe anything you could do would ever bring me to feel betrayed or angry. I trust and care for you hold-heartedly, nothing could ever change that._

_And though we may not be able to speak so freely now, I am still with you as I always was before._

_Always,_

_Haytham _

The letters had continued frequently through the summer. Months had passed and with every letter, his heart began to grow whole again. Speaking to Amelia so often had brought their bond that much stronger and although they hadn't had the pleasure of speaking face to face; it was enough to know she was still there. Though the sound of her voice had been a lost luxury to Haytham, summer was fading; the trees had begun to change. It was getting colder, getting darker earlier and the world seemed so much duller. Amelia's letters had quickly become a small delight in Haytham's life.

That was of course until the letters stopped so suddenly. Weeks went on and still no letters came, he sent a thousand replies only to be met with nothing in return. His own mind betrayed him, immediately thinking the worst.


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you so much for the lovely comments, I am so grateful for the support of this story and particularly excited for the next few chapters this one included, I hope you enjoy it :) Also I apologize in advance for any spelling mistakes. Enjoy**

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As the rain continued to fall the city of Boston was dark and grey, thunder shaking the sky as the storm grew stronger. The streets were near bare with townspeople taking shelter from the heavy showers.

Puddles splashed against Haytham's boots as he made his way through the winding streets and alleyways, through Amelia's letters he had learned that shortly after the engagement; Charles had bought a house just outside of the city. His mind raced with a million thoughts of he might find upon his arrival. The journey from Virginia alone had been grueling enough. If anything had happened to Amelia, he knew the guilt alone would kill him if the Assassin's or Templars didn't first.

Heart pumping, ears thumping; his hands clenched into fists. He moved quickly on his feet, dodging everything and anyone that stood in his path. When his eyes met the blue walls of the estate, Haytham froze. The absence of the carriage and small number of servants wondering the grounds told him that Charles wasn't home, a fact he was incredibly grateful for. As he moved forward through the main gates, the door opened a breath of relief escaping him as he locked eyes with Amelia.

"Haytham..."

She stood for a moment; the surprise sinking in as a smile gleamed against her green eyes. She slammed the door closed running towards him, her arms tackling him in a suffocating hug. Haytham couldn't stop his chuckle as he squeezed her tightly. Amelia knew such behavior wouldn't be tolerated if anyone saw, especially her mother. But after the four months they'd been apart she didn't much care. With only the company of his letters for such a long period of time; the real thing simply couldn't compare.

"I thought you were still in Virginia."

"No I'm not."

Amelia took a step back, a chance to take in every inch of his face. Even in the short time they'd been apart she could see the effects of time, the sleepless night under his eyes. She fiddled with the skirts of her dress as her gaze fell to her feet.

"No. What brings you to Boston?"

"Business mostly. That and I hadn't heard from you for a while, I suppose I wanted to make sure you were alright. I wrote to you but lately I haven't received a reply."

"I did! Reply I mean. Lately writing is the only thing I've had to do. I've wrote to you every day for the last four months."

"Yes...I know.

The silence stood strong between them. It seemed almost as if they didn't know how to be around each other anymore. Before it been so comfortable, so normal. But now it seemed forced. Like they were doing wrong by only speaking to one another.

"Are you well Amelia?"

"Yes very well thank you..."

Even now he could tell when she was lying, he could see it in her eyes. He moved to take her hand when she flinched.

"Amelia..."

"Charles moved up the wedding Haytham. It's next week."

He moved to take her hand once again, hold her, anything to let her know he was there. But she pushed him away. Her hands trembling, she pulled her skirt from under her feet and walked away. But when Haytham called out to her, attempted to follow she picked up her pace; fleeing towards the grand gardens of the estate.

The garden itself was beautiful, the land well kept. Haytham searched for any sign of Amelia, all the while taken in by the nature's beauty. The mazes, grand statues; fountains and blooming roses. The rain fell heavily from the sky, every drop bouncing from the ground. Droplets of water ran from the peak of his hat and soaked his boots to the point his feet were becoming cold.

Not much further he found Amelia standing under a stone arch by the center of the garden. She stood damp and shivering. Her arms wrapped around herself for warmth. Not a care in the world for the hem of her dress soaked in rain water and mud. Her hair damp from the rain against her fair skin.

He had offered her his cloak which she had reluctantly accepted, as it draped over her shoulders she pulled it tightly around her small frame while staring out at the rain from her shelter.

"I suppose congratulations are in order."

"Haytham..."

"It's alright. I understand"

Amelia laughed in spite of herself, a deep breath of frustration blowing passed her lips.

"Well I'm relieved you understand at least. Because I certainly don't. Everything has been arranged for me down to the last detail. You'd think a bride would have the right to choose her own groom... Wouldn't you?"

"I...suppose your mother only wanted what she thought was best for you."

"And you believe that to be Charles do you?"

Haytham didn't believe his words even as he said them and he knew Amelia didn't believe them either.

"No...No I don't."

Amelia was somewhat caught off guard by Haytham's stern answer. And he could feel his heart aching again. After finding her only to lose to her again had almost broken him and his heart simply couldn't bare it any longer.

"I have told myself time and time again how foolish I've been. At first realizing something I'd denied only to have it force upon me at the thought of losing you. The months we've been apart have been an agony that has never left me. It's plagued my thoughts, my heart... It's the reason I came to Boston to see you. I had to see you."

"I don't understand..."

"I love you..."

Amelia froze. Her every breath trembling, eyes meeting as Haytham stood silently awaiting her reply. A man with his heart laid bare, she could see it in the blue of his eyes a man so fiercely in love. He was the only man to ever look at her like that and it caused her heart to ache.

"I...I have to go."

She saw the hurt cloud his eyes and it killed her be the one that caused it. Reaching out to feel only air as she pulled away.

"Amelia please..."

"I'm sorry. I...I need to go."

He stood alone in the rain. A broken man as he watched her leave. The pain weighed heavily engulfing him and leaving him with nothing left to fight anymore. Letting go, his heart clenched with fear and dread. He was losing her again and was powerless to stop it.

Amelia couldn't think straight as her mind raced. Her heart thumping. The tears streaked down her cheeks, her eyes red and sore against the rain's cold touch. She approached the front door before stopping in her tracks. Looking back at the path she held back sniffles, wiping her eyes with her already soaked sleeve. She knew she could go back, talk to Haytham. She should go back. But her head and heart battled against each other. She had to say something, anything. The guilt she felt for leaving him, tugged at her heart and she knew she had to do something.

A courier on his way from Charles's office wondered through the hallway, sorting through the documents in his satchel. She bolted towards him, slightly startling the poor lad at her abruptness.

"Excuse me, I have a message for you to deliver."

"Of course Miss. Just passed me the letter and I'll be on my way."

"It's not a letter. Forgive me for my rushing but it's rather urgent. Find a Master Haytham Kenway and tell him to meet me at mother's house. A Mrs Charlotte Beckett."

"Of course Miss. Right Away."

"Thank you."

Amelia paid the boy before he took of down the street leaving her to release the breath she was holding. After a moment she shivered against her damp clothes, moving to push the door open to Charles's study. The fireplace lit and the warmth inviting she stepped into the room a trail of wet footprints and small puddles following close behind. She kneeled in front of the fire, the heat radiating against her iced skin. She glanced around the room taking in her surroundings, in the months she'd lived in the house this was the only room she'd never been inside. She couldn't understand why it always seemed off limits. There was nothing special about the room itself.

The paintings hung on the walls were normal, the statues like every other she'd seen in any grand estate and the desk; simple and bland. To say Charles was a Templar he seemed rather good at hiding it. She looked through the papers on his desk, newspapers, letters from his parents; letters from her own mother. Notes from books and novels and maps of the estate. Nothing was out of place. Her eyes wondered to the drawers of the desk and Amelia suddenly found her curiosity taking over.

_Dear Amelia..._

Her hand flew to her mouth, her breath catching in her throat. Every letter, every reply. Every word read and known.

_Dear Haytham..._

The letters she thought she'd sent only added to the pile. The endless pile, each slowly collected and opened. The letters fell from her shaking hands as she rushed to the door, heart jumping in her chest at the sight of her fiancé in the doorway.

"My dear Amelia. I'm glad you finally decided to come home."


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you so much for all the comments, faves and follows on my chapters, Dying Embers has gotten so many views and that is amazing! Here's chapter 16, I hope you enjoy it. I'm really excited about this part of the story; I have so much planned :)**

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The dark sky sparked to life with flashes of light as the wind howled through the air. The storm had taken a firm hold on the city of Boston and had continued its rampage throughout the night.

As dawn had begun to break Haytham felt a slight sting in the back of his eyes, his whole body trembling from lack of rest. The heart-broken Templar made his way through the streets, he had spent the night wondering the city after Amelia had left him. Her words still cutting through his heart each time he thought of them.

After everything they'd been through together, he'd been sure...he couldn't help but laugh through his own bitterness. He hadn't been sure she'd felt the same. Of course he'd been foolish enough to hope but the look in her eyes as he confessed his love had been something so strong and deep; he couldn't place it. She'd sent word for him to meet at her mother's, no doubt to explain her reaction to then proceed into letting him down easy. Still...if it was simply for rejection, he didn't mind. He'd always want her in his life. Even if it meant living a lie and settling as nothing more than just her friend.

The atmosphere around him had felt heavy as he approached the quaint little house. Charlotte Beckett had always taken great pride in the keeping of her home, nothing out of place. Everything cleaned and polished, well presented. The windows washed and wiped to perfection, not a mark in sight.

But the closer Haytham got to the little house, the more uneasy he felt. The flowers left withering away and dying, the windows left dusty and unwashed. Tea cups and pots lay in pieces on the kitchen floor, furniture ripped and broken and paintings left torn and hanging from the walls.

A sight of destruction and terror had paved its way through the little house, leaving nothing untouched. Haytham cautiously moved into the hallway, a chilling trail of dark crimson marking its way from the dining room.

The grand table lay turned on its side, along with every other possession cast aside. And by the small fireplace lay Amelia's mother. The old woman lay alone in the dining room in the sea of mess. The poor woman now peaceful and still. Haytham glanced about the room, the broken door kicked and left ajar. Bloody hand prints stained the cream wallpaper left by the attackers as they had made their escape. Looking around; he could tell the attack had happened in the night as every candle in the room had melted away.

Everything told Haytham that he should leave, that this was his fault. He had promised Amelia that her mother would always be safe. Another failure of his to hold close to his broken heart.

At that moment he froze. As the pieces fell into place his blood ran cold.

"Amelia..."

Without hesitation Haytham took off with only one place in mind. The Green Dragon Inn. Stepping inside the place had left a sickening feeling in the pit Haytham's stomach as he came face to face with Charles Lee. He marched into the room with purpose, arms placed behind his back. Shoulders back and head held high, Haytham channeled his authority to the best of his ability. He knew to tread lightly and with every step he felt as if the facade could break at any given moment.

"Evening Charles. I didn't realize you'd returned to Boston."

"I can certainly say the same Sir. I do hope everything is alright in Virginia."

"Indeed. I had hoped to find you here actually, there was some business in which I had wished to discuss with you."

Haytham took a seat opposite Charles. Hickey and Church both sat either side of him. Tankards in their hands and blank looks on their drunken faces. Charles leaned back in his seat, his arms crossing against his chest as he scowled as his Grand Master.

"Did you now? Seems I'm already quite aware of your business _Sir_."

"I don't follow..."

"The Assassin isn't here Master Kenway."

Haytham tensed in his seat as Charles' look hardened, his nostrils flaring as he slowly rose from his seat.

"Excuse me?"

"I wish I could say you're a better Templar than you are a liar but it's seems it's hard to tell where your loyalties lie these days."

Haytham shot to his feet as his fists slammed against the table, the sound carrying through the Tavern as the chatter fell to utter silence.

"How dare you question my loyalty?! You'd do better to remember your place Charles!"

"Of course Sir. Though as I was saying Amelia isn't here, I don't think you'll be seeing her for quite some time in fact. You see I've been catching up on my reading recently, it's fascinating what you can learn from a few letters."

Haytham stood silent as his eyes followed the pile of unsealed letters that were thrown onto the table. His hands beginning to shake with anger as he glared back at Charles.

"And believe me, it's all there. Four months wasn't it? A letter a day...pathetic. A once greatly respected leader. All those years of hard work, after everything you've done for the Order. And you throw it all away for some Assassin whore."

"Watch your mouth Charles!"

Charles scoffed with a smirk as he paced about the room.

"Ah... I had expected as much. How the mighty do fall. Such a shame really."

"Where is she?"

"I don't see how that's of any relevance. You won't ever be seeing her again, make no mistake of that."

Haytham stormed towards Charles, his hidden blades ready to strike as he rushed to pin his fellow Templar against the wall. Blade inches from sinking into his throat.

"If you harm as much as a hair on her head, make no mistake of it Charles I will kill you! Now where is she?!"

"You're in no position to be making threats _Sir!"_

"You killed her mother!"

"I did what was necessary! There was a time when you would have understood that!"

The Tavern suddenly erupted to life as the men moved to crowd around Haytham. Redcoats and Templars baring their blades and rifles. A wicked smile curling on Charles' face as he moved from Haytham's grip. Redcoats quick to disarm him before chaining his arms behind his back. Haytham flinched in their hold, his every strength fighting to break the binds.

"Charles you bastard!"

The Templar raised a hand to dismiss the men as they stood down. He stepped in-between his colleagues; Hickey and Church who both now suddenly seemed completely sober.

"Now I realize that given your rank and reputation Haytham, I can't kill you. But you betrayed the Order and that is an act that must be repaid in blood. And I'm sure Amelia would be most happy to oblige."

"Leave her out of this!"

"She was already a part of this Haytham, when you chose her over your own Order! And now she'll pay for your mistakes."


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you so much for your lovely comments, I apologize that this chapter is quite short but for the purposes of my planned plot it kinda needs to be to carry on. Anyway I hope you like this chapter :) Also I apologize in advance for any mistakes :)**

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Haytham jolted awake to the sound of tapping. The metallic clang that carried through the stone corridors of the cells. Glancing up at the small barred window above him he blinked away the sleep in his eyes as they adjusted to the morning sunlight. He stretched out his aching limbs and slowly rose to his feet, the small cramped room only allowing him so much space to move around. He paced towards the cell door, glancing out into the corridor only to once again find it empty. The sounds carried for miles in the wretched place, it could take hours of wandering the stone maze before ever finding another soul. He was alone and it had been that way for days. It seemed that Charles had been true to his word; and although he hadn't been able to kill Haytham he had taken to the idea of leaving his former Grand Master to rot alone in this small jail cell.

Haytham shivered against the chill that ran up his back. His clothes were still damp from the midnight rain that had showered through his window, now only stripped down to just his waistcoat, boots and breeches. The Templars had taken everything; along with his rank and nobility, he was now a common man and a traitor in their eyes.

He dusted off an old tattered blanket before placing it back across the straw mattress laid upon the cold stone floor. Kneeling down he perched his pillow against the wall before gently laying back down and resting his arm across his eyes. The stench of the cell was overwhelming and the unpleasant smells and sounds had kept him awake for days. Every moment of sleep had been forced and uncomfortable as his mind raced with thoughts of his lost love.

Amelia was dead. He knew in his heart it was true and the guilt and pain weight so heavily on his heart it felt difficult to breathe. The days had flitted away to the point Haytham could no longer keep track of how long he'd been imprisoned. They'd be no way of keeping Amelia alive that long. Charles would have no reason to and that made Haytham's blood boil.

As he lay alone in the sun's warming rays, he began to fall asleep. Once again plagued by the images of Amelia and Charles Lee's wicked grin. It was worse than torture itself, piercing and jabbing at his heart and mind. He'd begun to lose all reason and logic. He'd gone without food long enough that his hunger had faded and his physique was beginning to show for it.

His throat burned and lips were dry and chapped from lack of water. Haytham was no fool and he knew of the inevitable of what was to come should he be left much longer. And although he had not wished to be defeated so easily, he couldn't see a way out.

Later into the day as the sun's rays died away and the night darkened the sky, he too was left in pure darkness. Just as every night before and every night to come. His isolation had started to toy with him, hearing voices that weren't there; images that moved through the dark. And at times of sheer agony as he'd begun to drift into an uncomfortable slumber; he'd feel the soft touch of Amelia's hand caress his cheek. The icy touch lingering his against his skin. The feeling so real it pained all the more to awake and find that he was once again alone.

Haytham sat up against the wall, leaning forward resting his arms on his knees. All hopes of finding sleep abandoned as he glanced up at the small window; now aglow from the moon as his only source of light. His breaths were shallow and echoed as he rubbed his face gasping out a deep sigh.

His own body was betraying him as his fatigue pulled him down. He couldn't hold out much longer; but with the thought of Amelia gone...Haytham just didn't have the strength to care anymore.


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you so much for your lovely comments! This story really has taken on a life of itself own and I'm really proud of where it's ended up. So sorry the few chapters have been rather sad but it does get happier (I know I keep saying that but I promise it does! Really honest! :D) Anyway here is chapter 18 and I really hope you like it :)**

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Haytham finally awoke from the long hours of nightmares and pained memories. His mind a blur along with his echoed heartbeat and slow breaths. The deep burn that rumbled within his chest as he tried to find his voice against his dry and cracked throat. His hand covering his mouth as forced coughs erupted from his chest before he backed against the wall. His world a dull buzz as he surfaced from the tormenting darkness of his dreams. The morning was cold and still, much like every other. Haytham moved to rest his arms on the iron bars of his cell door, peering out with the dwindling hope of ever seeing another. It had been weeks since Haytham had seen another soul, let alone held a conversation.

It had slowly become routine to stand every morning by the door, waiting and watching. For someone, anyone to show. Be it Templar or Redcoat. He didn't care. Haytham felt exiled like a monster instead of man. Though today felt different, unlike the other eighty-five days he'd been kept a prisoner. The air moved, the atmosphere came alive; every instinct Haytham had warned him on edge.

The distinct sound of boots marching against the stone, keys clanging in hand. Shadows danced across the corridor until Haytham caught sight of William Johnson hurrying towards him. Either Charles had changed his mind and now wanted him dead or he'd sent Johnson to carry out the deed for him.

Johnson unlocked the cell door, letting it swing open as he stepping into the cell with his former-Grand Master.

"Master Kenway ... I've knocked out the guards but I'm afraid we only have a short time to escape. We must make haste!"

Haytham knew well enough this was no rescue. Charles had turned all the Templars to his side. None of the men had spoken out against his order to imprison him. He didn't hesitate as he flew at the man, hands wrapping around his throat; almost resisting the urge to squeeze.

"You think me a fool Johnson?! Give me one reason not to kill you where you stand!"

Johnson gasped against Haytham's hold, his fingers pawing at the hands around his neck.

"Sir! Please... I only... wish to help. We... must stop Charles at once!"

Haytham loosened his hold letting Johnson slip as he fell to his knees gasping for air in a fit of coughs and wheezes.

"Explain Johnson."

"After he imprisoned you Sir, he appointed himself as the new Grandmaster of the Order."

"He did what..."

"He's gone mad with power Sir, he's employed the help of the Redcoats and he's begun pursuing the precursor sites. He seeks the precursor treasure."

"But we abandoned that project years ago after all of the destruction it caused!"

"He does not care about that. He's already slaughtered hundreds of innocents. Any who get in his way! I will not stand by and witness such madness, we must stop him Master Kenway!"

Haytham paced the space of his small cell before finally turning back to Johnson.

"Very well, we must return to my homestead for supplies and devise a plan."

"Of course Sir and what of the girl?"

"The girl?"

"The Assassin Sir..."

Haytham tried to hide his grimace of pain as it made itself known once again tugging at his heart as he marched passed Johnson into the corridor.

"Amelia is dead Johnson..."

"That may be what Charles had you believe but she's very much alive Sir...my sources tell me she's somewhere in this very building. Although I couldn't say where I'm afraid."

Haytham was struck where he stood, a force of relief so strong washing over head and heart he almost lost his balance.

"Are you certain?"

"Most definitely Sir. "

"Then we must find her. Lead me to the guards you encountered, we'll make use of their swords and rifles if we're to leave here alive."

* * *

Haytham glanced around cautiously through the winding corridor as he waited for William Johnson to follow not far behind. He adjusted the belt on the stolen uniform as he strapped the last of the discarded pistols to his hip, a trail of dead Redcoats littered the floor as Haytham stepped over the bodies making his way forward.

"Alright Johnson, according to the guards Miss Beckett is being kept on the lower levels of the prison. The stairs should just down here."

"I'm with you Sir."

Haytham gave a nod as he led the way. The two crept further down, thick stone walls whispering a cold breeze through the cracks in the bricks. Boots tapping against the hard floor, echoing through the air with the dull flickers of lanterns hanging from the ceiling.

He winced at the creaks given from the wooden stairs as they found their way to the lower level. The underground was dark and dank, the smell overpowering and nauseating. Johnson moved to Haytham's side with a poorly lit torch as the two made their way through the cells; the sights were horrifying. Starving prisoners and tortured souls; all left to rot alone and in pain.

The unforgettable moans and screams tore away at Haytham as he thought of Amelia.

"The search is hopeless Sir. Best we split up to cover more ground."

Haytham was too lost in his thoughts to reply as Johnson took off down a dark corridor, taking every inch of light with him as the glowing orb floated overhead. Left in the dark he moved to find a second torch as his hand trailed the width of the wall. Fingers gliding over the cold, drafty stone until he came upon a wooden handle. After finding a way to light the torch he waved the fire through the air as he mapped out his path before moving forward.

Haytham moved deeper into the underground, his stomach turning at the trails of blood staining the floor. The cells he stumbled upon were now becoming empty, the insides now reduced to nothing but bones. The hope of finding Amelia was becoming slim but with each step his heart beat heavier as his desire to see her again grew that much stronger.

"Master Kenway! I've found her!"

He couldn't remember just how he'd made his way back to Johnson exactly. After hearing such words, his emotions had acted that much quicker than his memory.

Now standing at the barred cage as Johnson unlocked the door before standing aside. Haytham trembled as he stepped into the cell.

"Amelia?"

The sight of her both angered and broke the man. His beloved bloodied and bruised, her once pretty blue dress now torn, blood-soaked and ragged. The once confidence and beautiful young Assassin now small and timid as she curled into herself against the wall. Her breaths rapid and trembling, she flinched as Haytham slowly reached out to her. Her arms wrapping around herself as she shields herself from harm.

"My god...what have they done to you..."

Her wide eyes shine fear and loss as she glanced at Haytham. The small light of recognition sparking.

"H-Haytham?"

He offers her what little smile he can through his aching heart as she inches towards him. Her tiny fingers cautiously reaching out as she gently touches his face.

"You-You're really here."

His voice fails him as he slowly nods, carefully moving forward and taking her into his arms. She holds on for dear life, her grip tight on his shirt as she buries her head into his chest. He carries her out of the cell and strides straight for the stairs. Johnson struggling to keep up behind, though it mattered little to former Templar. Haytham made a promise to himself in that moment that Amelia would never go back to that horror again. Even if it was the last thing he did.


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you for the all the lovely comments, it means the world to me! I apologize for the longg gap in-between chapters, I've been really busy and haven't had time to write but I hope that chapter 19 is okay and not a disappointment. I hope you enjoy it, I still have so much planned for this story! :) Also I apologize in advance for any spelling or typing errors :)**

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_Amelia gasped against the splash of cold water hitting her face. Every cut and bruise aching from the icy touch. As her vision cleared her eyes stinging, she forced her heavy head to glance at the looming figure towering over her._

_"Ah you're awake. Really Amelia, must we keep going in circles like this? If you'd only confess and give in..."_

Amelia scoffed in her seat, tugging slightly at the binds that held her wrists.

"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction."

Charles chuckled as he began pacing around her.

"So much spirit even now, I must say I rather admire that about you..."

_Amelia shivered against the cold damp rags weighting her down as she squeezed her eyes closed. Her mind spinning across flashes of bright light. Every sound an echo carrying through her, the twisted smirks and chuckles of amusement flew through her mind like a kaleidoscope of memories playing all at once. The same haunting nightmares over and over._

She rubbed her eyes as the morning light of the homestead beamed through the curtains that gently drifted in the breeze. She calmed her racing heart as she took a moment to shake away the lingering nightmares.

It had been the same for days since she'd been rescued, at times she'd wake in a panic. The fear and pain still fresh in her mind placing her back in her cramped, dark cell. Even after the nights of forced sleep she still felt exhausted. She stood by the window silent, shoulders raised, hugging herself and staring at her feet. Amelia pulled the robe tighter around herself as she moved to take a seat on her bed. She felt weak and timid. What was worst was that she hated the feeling. Once a strong and sure Assassin; now lost and vulnerable.

Amelia's train of thoughts were interrupted by the hushed voices coming from the kitchen downstairs.

The unmistakable tone of Haytham and William Johnson's arguing had quickly moved from hushed sharp whispers to loud and competing. Standing on the stairs just out of sight Amelia listened carefully, her every instinct telling her to go back and rest but she needed to hear was being said.

"Sir, we need more time..."

"I believe we have waited long enough Johnson. It is time we made our move."

"But there still much we do not know! After everything Charles did Sir, my advice would be to wait!"

"Charles has done enough! I will not sit idly by and do nothing!"

"I understand Master Kenway but there is more research to be done, if Charles seeks the precursor treasure we need to know why."

"Amelia almost died down there Johnson! You do what you must but I assure you that I shall do the same!"

She didn't hear another word as Haytham left the house, the wooden door slamming behind him. Her hands began to tremble as she remembered the desperate look in Haytham's eyes as he lifted her into his arms and carried her away from her prison. Had he carried her all the way from Boston? Stayed by her side for the journey to Virginia? Guarded her door at night as she slept?

She could never be sure, she had been so weak; so broken that her body had given up its strength the moment he had rescued her.

* * *

Later into the night it seemed sleep had failed to find her again, her entire being now yearning for rest she could not reach. Amelia pulled the hood of her cloak further down across her face as she delicately tip-toed down the stairs; every step so precise to not wake the creaks in the wood. The guilt weighting down in the pit of stomach now spinning her head to the point of nausea.

She needed time. Haytham would understand. She felt a burden to him now, an inconvenience. She couldn't defend herself and she didn't want the obligation to hang over his head. Her pride much too big for her own good pushing her the extra few steps as she neared the hallway.

"Miss Beckett?"

Amelia flinched at the sudden voice as she slowly turned to see William Johnson standing in the doorway.

"Oh Master Johnson, I'm sorry to have woken you."

The man gave out a small chuckle that quickly subsided when he noticed the packed bag in her hand.

"Nonsense my dear girl, I haven't slept a wink yet as it were. Seem to have lost track of time in my research. Are...are you leaving? It's the middle of the night, surely it can wait till morning?"

"Yes I must leave at once...I thought it best you see."

William sighed deeply as his face softened.

"You mean to spare yourself the pain of a bitter farewell."

"I...I'm not sure I understand."

"I don't mean to speak out of turn Miss but it seems you're running from something... or rather someone."

"I don't follow..."

She did. Amelia knew exactly what William was trying to say. She just didn't what to hear it, she couldn't.

"Haytham is a good man and he'll make sure to do right by you... I suspect Charles always knew that he never truly had your heart Miss Beckett."

"I- I don't..."

"Do not worry my dear, I shall not speak of this to anyone."

"Thank you Master Johnson but why show me such kindness I don't deserve?"

"A man who chooses to walk away from one life at the chance to start another is something to be admired Miss Beckett. And if such a man is willing to change; I must say the woman he's willing to change for, must be quite extraordinary."

Johnson simply offered a smile as he left Amelia to her thoughts. After returning to her room, William Johnson's words continued to pull in weight as they ran through her mind. Had Haytham given up everything just to be with her? Was he really prepared to start a new life? To leave his Templar ties behind?

Amelia crawled under the thick blankets of her bed; hugging them against her small frame as she stared hopelessly at the ceiling.

"_He loves you Amelia... He loves you."_

Her words barely a whisper against her lips as she repeated them over and over again. She found for the first time in months she had begun to smile.


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you so much for the all the love for this story and for sticking with it this long, I really appreciate it! I especially wanted to give a quick shout-out to Noblenova for your lovely review; it really made me smile to think you enjoy my story so much and it comments like this that keep me writing so thank you so much! :D I hit chapter 20 and it's officially a year since I first posted this story and its come such a long way and really I'm pleased with it; so I saved something extra special for this chapter, it is a little short but I'm in the process of writing out chapter 21… I hope you enjoy it and I apologize in advance for any spelling mistakes or typing errors.**

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Amelia gently woke to the calming breeze swaying against the curtains of her open window the next morning. The chirping of the bird's melody softly calling from the outside brought a smile of content to her lips. She sat up in her bed; stretching out her rested arms before stepping out of the warmth. The night had brought many dreams and thoughts through her racing mind as her heart began to ache.

She stood by the window taking in the breathtaking view, lost in her own world as she so often did whenever she stayed at the homestead. Amelia didn't hear the approaching footsteps until a looming shadow stood leaning against the doorway.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm fairly certain you should be resting."

"Haytham..."

He offered her a hint of a smile as he stepped in the room, she noticed he was rather distracted. Hands behind his back and his was breathing short, as if he didn't know how to act around her anymore. He seemed distant, the light that once beamed when he looked at her had now faded.

"I trust you slept well?"

Amelia was taken back for a moment. The warmth in his voice was gone, he sounded like the blank Grandmaster she had once hated. She couldn't understand his cold tone.

"Yes, thank you."

She stood watching him intently as he silently paced around her room before stopping to gaze out of the window.

"The doctor has informed me that the injures were quite severe, though after all the time you've spend here; he's more than confident you shall eventually recover back to full health. I do hope everything here has been to your liking during your stay."

Amelia didn't answer before taking a cautious step towards him. He looked exhausted and empty. Stood only in his shirt, breeches and boots; he looked as though he didn't even possess the energy to finish dressing. Her hands trembled as she gently placed her hand against his cheek; slowly turning his face to look her in the eyes.

"That's it then? After all we've been through... we're back to small talk are we Haytham?"

He sighed deeply, reaching up and taking her hand into his own. His face sinking into her touch, eyes closing for a moment before looking back in defeat.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

Amelia looked back in confusion. A small laugh escaping her lips.

"Hurt me? Wha- You never..."

"Everything Charles did to you and the others... I blame myself. It's my fault."

She shook her head, delicate hands taking hold of his as she pulled him close.

"Nonsense Haytham. He's a Templar and I an Assassin, it's the natural order of things. How it has always been. It was no fault of yours I assure you. You took me away from it all, saved my life."

Haytham laughed in spite of himself as he watched Amelia retreat to her bed; sitting down with crossed legs. Looking back at the sparkling sun he took in the calm of the morning air, lost in the gentle breeze it provided.

"You said you loved me."

It was barely a whisper uttered from her lips but Haytham heard every word as he slowly turned to face her, his heart clenching for every second of silence. She stared at the ground, her hands placed neatly in her lap. He lost his voice; everything taking him back to that moment in the pouring rain.

_...The months we've been apart have been an agony that has never left me. It's plagued my thoughts, my heart... It's the reason I came to Boston I had to see you._

_I don't understand..._

_I love you..._

"Amelia..."

"Did you mean it?"

He froze slightly as Amelia quickly shot to her feet, now standing toe to toe with him. He always admired the way she held herself, so confident and proud. Her long brown hair fell just right, each curl perfectly in place, her green eyes sparkling against the suns healthy glow. Even now he saw her beauty through the cuts and bruises. Both were lost in the other; eyes locked and hearts racing. Haytham leaned forward as he towered over her small frame.

"Did you mean it Haytham?"

Her words were timid and quiet as her voice trembled from fear of his answer. He pulled her close hands wrapped around her waist, lips barely brushing. Amelia's breath caught in her throat as he raised a hand to softly lift her chin, their eyes meeting once again. The blush on her cheeks that much deeper as she failed to hide her smile. He slowly leaned in, a breath away as their lips brushed his whisper just an utter as it melted into the kiss.

"Yes."


	21. Chapter 21

**Thank you so much for the comments, I'm so happy that I could finally get Haytham and Amelia together! :D Also this is probably the last chapter with flashbacks for Amelia, I just wanted to give a sense of what happened to her when she was with Charles. Anyway, here's chapter 21 I hope you enjoy it and I genuinely hope it doesn't disappoint. I apologize in advance if there's any spelling mistakes or typing errors :)**

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_Amelia shivered against the cold damp rags weighting her down as she squeezed her eyes closed. Her mind spinning across flashes of bright light. Every sound an echo carrying through her, the twisted smirks and chuckles of amusement flew through her mind like a kaleidoscope of memories playing all at once. The same haunting nightmares over and over._

_"...But you'll break eventually; you Assassins always do."_

_She scoffed in response her skin ablaze from the pain of her wounds, the iced water piercing. The very touch shattering her bones as she continued to shiver from the unbearable cold._

_"I'll ask once more..."_

_Amelia tried to hide her fear as Charles flew at her grabbing her by the throat; his eyes red with rage._

_"Where is the precursor key?!"_

_She gave him a hard stare, her fists clenching together fighting the urge to cry out in pain. She had always known how cruel Templars could be. She'd been raised to despise them, kill them. But this was a side of Charles she'd always hoped to never see. For him to know of her true identity had been a secret both she and Haytham had wanted to keep for as long as possible for fear of just this happening. But it was too late for her and Amelia knew that. She'd expected Charles to be angry, to even kill her. But what she hadn't expected was the cruel and heartless man he'd grow to be. The man had quickly become a monster and now every touch and kiss turned her stomach with utter disgust even more than it had before._

_"I told you...I don't know..."_

_"Don't lie to me!"_

_Amelia flinched at Charles' outburst, his fingers slowly beginning to dig into her throat that much more. She gasped against the grip; tears threatening to fall from her sore, exhausted eyes. Charles' hands trembled with anger before he harshly pulled away letting out frustrated growl. Amelia coughed for air, her throat gagging as she panted a sigh of relief watching Charles leave the cell in a fit of rage._

* * *

Amelia woke with a start as her mind attempted to chase away the nightmares once again. She took a breath, calming herself as she rubbed her tired eyes. Glancing around the room; the afternoon sunlight painted the bedroom perfectly. Setting out a warming glow along the floor and walls.

The welcomed warmth of an arm snaking around her waist brought her back from her wondering mind. Sinking down into the embrace Amelia smiled, the sound of his soft breaths soothed her in the tranquil quiet. She hadn't seen Haytham so peaceful in such a long time and it brought with it a final sense of relief to be laid in his arms; safe and unharmed...the nightmares finally fading away.

Laying against his broad and bare chest as he slept, she traced small patterns along his stomach taking in every inch of him. Finally able to see him again after so long apart. She saw the crow's feet appearing by his eyes, the years slowly beginning to catch up with the both of them. The slight smile he wore as he slept; clearly wrapped in the hold of pleasant dreams. She also noticed the new scars that now marked his skin, one across his forehead, a second above his right eyebrow and a third across his chin. Her slender fingers slowly reached up to stroke the base of his neck as she sighed deeply. Her head burying into his chest as she gently began to drift to the calming beats of his heart.

The light rumble of Haytham's chest caused her to stir as she woke to his smirk. His bright blue eyes staring dreamily into her own.

"I had half expected this to be a dream."

"Oh?"

Amelia smirked as she slowly leaned forward placing a tender kiss on Haytham's lips before pulling back, their noses barely brushing as his smile grew.

"I'd say that felt rather real wouldn't you?"

Haytham merely chuckled as he pulled her close his head nuzzled into her soft brown hair in a feeble attempt to hide the smug smirk playing across his lips.

"Now, I didn't say I wasn't enjoying it."

His voice muffled as his hold around her tightened slightly; Amelia rolled her eyes as she began to sit up. His eyes following her as she slipped on her robe before making her way to the balcony by the open window, playfully swaying her hips a little too much; gaining yet another smirk from her lover.

"Glad to see you missed me."

"More than you know..."

Haytham had never had many loves in his life. Everyone he had cared for was now gone. All except Amelia and though she had forgiven him for the actions of _his _Templars, the guilt still played on his mind. Pulling the newly abandoned bed sheets around his naked waist he eventually joined her out on the balcony, one arm finding its way around her stomach as she leaned into him; both relaxing into one another's touch.

"They told me what you did Haytham. All the lies, turning your back on the Templar Order; they say you threatened Charles. And what he did to you...I-"

Amelia paused. Slowly turning to face him; the look in his eyes solemn. His every breath trembling, he felt his heart drop as a lump appeared in his throat, making it hard to swallow.

"You must know...Surely you must know, it was all for you."

The two stood, silent. Looking into each other's eyes, Amelia placed her cold hand on Haytham's cheek. He traced his own against hers as his hand moved down to her wrist. She smiled slightly as she lightly brushed her lips against Haytham's in a tender kiss. He let out a deeply huffed sigh as he composed himself shortly afterwards. A leap of faith jilting his racing heart.

"Amelia... Could you be happy here? With me?"

The Assassin grinned sweetly. The butterflies in her stomach that much more lively.

"What gave you the impression that I wasn't? Haytham you did all this for me, I...I love you."

In that moment even Haytham was surprised to find that his pulse quickened at her words. Once a stubborn and stern Grandmaster had now been reduced to that of a love-sick school boy from his youth. But for the first time in his life, he found he didn't care. The thrill and euphoria it brought along with it was worth every second for a man so fiercely in love.


	22. Chapter 22

**I apologize its been so long since my last update but I've been getting ready for two racing college interviews at the end of the month so I haven't been at home much. Here's chapter 22 I hope you like it and I hope it doesn't disappoint and in advance sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. Hope you enjoy chapter 22 please review I'd love more feedback! :D**

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The days had slowly dragged by, the months gradually blurring together as the winter's chill had once again begun to appear. As the darkness closed in, Amelia felt suffocated. The storm clouds looming over her head, water pouring endlessly from the gray sky. Lightning illuminated the day occasionally followed by the deep roar of thunder. The grass seemed to drown in the low flood of the storm. She stood before the unkempt grave in the corner of the vast cemetery. With no flowers rested by the plain headstone reading 'Charlotte Beckett'. Taking a shaken breath, Amelia's hands trembled. The darkness sliding its icy grip around her head and heart, holding on tightly until she gasped for breath.

"Hello Mother. I'm sorry I wasn't here for the funeral. I'm told it was small...simple. Just as you wanted. Mrs Wilson informed me it was quite the affair, they all drank to you. In the Tavern. I wish...I wish I could have been there."

She felt her breath catch in her throat as the guilt weighted heavily on her chest. The silence that met her cut deeper than she had originally thought it would. Only now yearning to hear her mother's voice again. Haytham had understood that she needed time and had respected her decision to come alone. Taking a step back, she sighed. She was just so tired. Drained. Looking back, her knees went weak threatening to give way. She knew deep down this was her fault, she had wanted to keep things from her mother to keep her safe but in the end it had all been for nothing.

"I'm so sorry mother. I'm sorry. I should have told you...I should have told you everything. The Brotherhood is our family and it's who we are. I couldn't simply walk away from such a life."

As she let out another shaken breath, she wiped away her tears. She had always been so certain, so devoted to her cause. But after everything that had happened she was beginning to doubt herself and that scared her. As she spoke she heard the pain in her own voice as she whispered against the sound of the pouring rain and heaviness of her own tears.

"Forgive me mother."

Walking down the street, she blurred out all sounds of life. Always on constant alert from fear of being caught. They had been back in Boston for a fortnight and so far had been lucky enough not be seen by Charles or his men.

Amelia held her cloak tightly around her frame as she ducked into the underground Tunnels. The constant rumble from above and flickers from her lantern; her only companion in the dark.

* * *

The air inside the tunnel was stuffy and warm as she moved through the secret passage, flinching slightly as it slammed closed behind her. Placing the lantern on a nearby shelf, she moved further through the abandoned Assassin Den. Silence greeted her as she watched over the two former Templars both hard at work. Haytham sat at his desk; eyes strained as he looked over the same maps over and over. Johnson sat at the large table centered in the middle of the room, a frown set upon his face while he read through a pile of letters. She quietly sat beside him as he greeted her a stern nod and a forced smile. He sighed deeply as he handed her the last letter.

"I've received work from my contacts in Boston. Another city lost in the last month; destroyed. Crumbled into nothing."

Haytham was quick to move from his desk, joining the two as Johnson allowed him a glance at the letter.

"And yet Charles and his men continue to search for the precursor sites. Amelia, any word from the Assassins?"

"Not yet. Though most have gone into hiding from fear of being killed. Charles is hunting every last one of us, killing any he comes into contact with."

"I see."

The former Grand Master crossed his arms leaning back against the wall, eyes finding the floor.

"Charles now knows of my betrayal Master Kenway. I can no longer aid you from within the Order."

"Not to worry Johnson. Charles lacks the experience needed in order to direct the Templars, he'll slip up eventually and when he does we'll know for certain what he intends to do once he locates the precursor treasure."

Amelia uttered a hum in reply as the two men glanced her way. She flipped through the letters, each a note of intelligence and information on Charles' actions over the last few months. Though the more she looked through them, the less sense they made.

"Amelia?"

Haytham took her silence as an excuse to sit beside her. Her cheeks slightly flushed at his sudden closeness but managed to quickly compose herself as she drew his attention to the letters.

"It doesn't make any sense. In the beginning both the Assassins and the Templars believed this precursor treasure to be some sort of weapon to be used against one another."

"True but after our search three years ago we discovered it to be a lost cause. The precursor treasure is no weapon, Charles is well aware of this."

"And yet he continues to seek its location."

Both grew quiet as their minds began racing in thought, Amelia pulling away from the table and pacing around the room. Haytham's gaze followed her as he noticed the look of discomfort on her face when she turned to meet his stare.

"When I was...with Charles, he wanted to know where you'd hidden the precursor key. But you told me that you never found what it opened."

"I didn't. Which is why I fail to understand what use Charles would make of the artefact."

"Unless..."

Amelia and Haytham both shared a knowing look, the same thought racing through their minds as they rushed to grab their cloaks. Haytham took a moment to strap his hidden blades to his wrists before placing his hat on his head and waiting for Amelia by the doorway. She quickly folded Haytham's maps from his desk passing them to Johnson.

"Johnson do you think you could make it to the docks without being seen?"

"Of course Miss Beckett but I fail to see what you and Master Kenway have in mind."

"In time Master Johnson, just see to it that you can arrange a ship before Haytham and I return."

"At once Miss Beckett."

Amelia nodded her thanks as he quickly took off down the corridor, lantern and maps in hand. A small tug of her arm pulled her attention as she turned to Haytham.

"Mila..."

She smiled at the nickname seeing the worried look in his eyes, gently reaching up to straighten his hat; her hands slowly slid down to his cheeks as she placed a reassuring kiss on the tip of his nose gaining a smile in return.

"You needn't worry Haytham. Everything will be fine."

"If we're wrong about this..."

"We won't be."


	23. Chapter 23

The house was so dark and dreary, cold like the very touch of winter itself. The creaks echoed under foot with every step the Assassin and ex-Templar took. The house now completely empty after a year of being left unattended, dust and cobwebs covered the rooms. The very light smothered from the dark mildew and mold growing its way up the unkempt windows. It broke Amelia's heart to see her mother's house so empty and abandoned. The very spirit of Charlotte Beckett now utterly erased from the family home.

Haytham felt her hesitation as he gently pulled her close, the two making their way up the stairs to the attic. She pulled back the single book left in the case as it swung back revealing the secret passage leading to yet another set of stairs. Edward and William's portraits stared blankly at their grown children stepping into the room, as they began looking through the chests and boxes of old letters and journals. Neither spoke as they continued to search, only the sounds of rustling paper and distant chatter from the streets below filling the room.

Amelia's eyes searched from one document to another, the pages flipping hastily until she found what she was looking for.

"Haytham..."

He paused at the sound of his name, turning to face the journal she held out for him. With a steady hand he took the book from her as he took a seat before looking through the pages.

"Incredible...it would seem my father kept more from me than I had realized. The precursor key once belonged to him, it was passed through the Assassins in order to ensure its safety..."

"The Assassin you killed back in England was an old friend of your father's and mine. According to these letters, he received the key a few days after they died."

"Then I suppose it's no wonder I could never find what that key opened...I was looking in the wrong place all this time."

Amelia paced the space of the attic before settling in the seat beside Haytham, another journal in her grip before she placed it on the table.

"Haytham we were right...Charles isn't searching for the precursor treasure, he's looking for the Observatory."

Haytham leaned forward, his arms resting against the desk that stood between them.

"_Old ruins of strange metals and markings_..._holding a device capable of seeing great distances._ My father writes about this place as if he's experienced it firsthand."

"Perhaps he has, neither of us know much about our father's lives as Assassins before we were born."

He continued reading, wonderstruck at the writings of his father. A small smile of bewilderment upon his face the more enticed with the book he got. Even after losing his father at such a young age; Haytham still often thought of him. Carrying with him the untold mysteries of his father's past before his settled life in Queen Anne's Square. After learning this father was an Assassin he had always wanted to know more. How did Edward come to know of the Brotherhood? What adventures had he faced during his time with the Creed? Now with his many journals to hand, Haytham finally felt he had the time to sit and read them.

Every entry as interesting as the last. The sudden shuffling by the door pulled his attention from the page as Amelia collected the documents placing them inside a hidden pocket within her cloak, much to Haytham's disappointment of wanting to stay and continue his reading.

"We should leave for the docks and inform Johnson on our findings."

Though hesitate, Haytham gave slight nod as he followed close behind.

* * *

Golden leaves danced onto the ground, only to be washed away in the rush of rain water streaming down the busy Boston streets. The icy droplets now softer than the morning as the shower continued to fall, the grey sky a flutter of light with every streak of lightening followed by the deep rumbling of thunder. Amelia and Haytham made their way through the bustling crowds, the market place a rush of husbands and wives, friends and families; running their daily errands, working their market stalls or in a rush to take shelter from the rain.

Haytham stole a few side glances at his love, noticing she too was attempting to escape the rain by pulling her hood further forward. He slowed his pace till the two came to a complete stop. Amelia eyeing him with confusion, a question on her lips only to be paused by his warm smile.

"May I?"

Confusion again filled her eyes as she folded her arms across her chest, her small smirk asking him what exactly he had in mind. Without another word he removed his hat before gently placing it upon her head.

"There..."

Amelia's smirked grew as a she let out a small giggle, pulling the peak further down to hide her blushing cheeks.

"I must say, it rather suits you."

She knew he was teasing her and it was certainly working. Her cheeks getting darker from the sweet gesture. Haytham had always been a gentleman and it was one of the many things she loved about him. And though they had been together almost six months; everything still felt new. Even when he placed a simple kiss on her cheek before taking a hold of her hand as the continued their walk to the docks. Amelia's grip held strong all the while moving closer to Haytham's side as they walked together hand in hand.

When the two found William Johnson he was frustratingly pacing the length of the docks in record time before turning on heel and doing the same again. The man evidently losing his nerve from fear of being caught. Amelia had to admit she felt rather guilty for making the poor man wait so long, but finding the documents they needed had taken longer than expected.

When the ex-Templar spotted the couple he practically raced to their sides. A disarray of maps and notes in hand, his words a rushed and jumbled mess. Haytham stood firm and noble as he cleared his throat causing Johnson's rambling to stop almost immediately.

"Calm yourself Johnson. Take a breath and explain slowly."

"My apologizes Master Kenway. But I was almost seen by Charles' men, they were here. Collecting supplies and I overheard their conversation. They say Charles is no longer in the city, or even in the Colonies. He left weeks ago, though I'm afraid I know not where."

"That won't be a problem Johnson, we know exactly where Charles is. And we intend to follow."

"Sir?"

"Johnson we're going to the West Indies."


	24. Chapter 24

The Endeavor sailed strong and steady across the crashing waves and howling winds. Six days had passed since the three left Boston, each knowing it would take around another fortnight on their journey. They had taken the time to plan and prioritize before arriving in Kingston.

Down in the lower deck, Amelia sat silently atop an old desk as she watched Haytham pacing around the room; arms rested behind his back as he observed Johnson looking through the papers and maps they'd retrieved from Boston.

"This is extraordinary Master Kenway! Quite the find! And you're sure this is what Charles is after?"

"Positive, according to my father's writings the Observatory contains a device that would prove most beneficial to both the Creed and the Order alike. He claims that for years both groups sought out a man known as the sage. It was his blood that was required to access the Site. But after years of searching, my father eventually killed him. However he managed to obtain a drop of his blood and place it within an artefact."

"You speak of the Precursor key?"

"Precisely, which would explain why Charles was so eager to get a hold of it."

Johnson paused for a moment, a frown set deep within his face.

"But how do you plan to locate Charles and take the key back?"

Amelia hopped down from her spot on the desk as she moved to stand between the two ex-Templars.

"My contacts have informed me that Charles and his Templars are holding a small gathering in a few weeks' time. Something of a masquerade ball apparently. Once we arrive in Kingston I will see to it that my Assassins locate his estate."

"There. You see Johnson, everything is taken care of. You needn't worry."

Haytham smiled as he locked eyes with his love, gaining a smirk in return. Johnson gave a small unenthusiastic hum in reply before taking the papers into his arms.

"In that case, I shall excuse myself in order to study up on this 'Observatory' I think it best we are well prepared before we begin our search."

Neither spoke as the Irish man disappeared from the lower deck and headed towards his sleeping quarters.

* * *

As night fell, the ocean remained calm. The creak of the ship a constant as she sailed along through the light fog that floated its way across the horizon. Amelia stood out on the upper deck, eyes closed, arms wrapped around herself as she breathed in the salty sea air. The wind softly breezing through her long loose hair as she shivered slightly against the night's chill. Alone with only the distant calls from crew members as they shouted to one another, calling, singing and chatting.

She held back a small giggle as she felt a pair of arms slowly snake around her waist. No words were spoken as she leaned back into the embrace, the subtle breaths tickling her ear as Haytham rested his chin against her shoulder.

"Beautiful."

"The stars? I'm surprised you can see them through the fog tonight."

He let out a deep chuckle as he turned her to face him, his hands taking a hold of hers.

"Well I'm sure the stars are beautiful too."

Amelia gave a smirk and a roll of her eyes as she sighed deeply.

"Oh Haytham that was dreadful."

He simply shrugged with a playful smirk as he pulled her into a tender kiss, arms holding one another tightly against the night's icy winds. Lost in a world of their own, ignoring the teasing howls and whistles from the crew members in the crow's nest overhead.

As days went by the fog lifted and the weather grew warmer, the sun blazing high in the clear blue sky. Amelia admired the ship in all its glory as she spent the morning exploring. Speaking with the odd crew member being a greeted with a pleasant 'Morning Miss' bringing a warm smile to her lips. She used the rest of her time speaking with the cook, the captain and the ship's doctor before moving to check on Johnson; the gentle knocking of his door echoing through the lower deck quickly being followed by a muffled 'Come in' from the man.

"Good morning."

"Ah good morning to you, Miss Beckett."

"I've told you, call me Amelia."

Johnson gave a small chuckle as he shuffled in his seat.

"Of course, my apologizes Mis-Amelia."

"How has your research been coming along?"

Johnson quickly moved to clear a chair for her as he took a pile of books and set them aside on the floor by his bed.

"Quite well actually. This Observatory Master Kenway speaks of, is most certainly part of this precursor culture we've been looking for. Strange metals, glowing lights..."

"Haytham seems to think so and I have no reason to doubt his judgement."

The two grew quiet as the tension hung between them, Johnson eyeing Amelia as she stared blankly at the maps spread across his desk.

"Miss Amelia, forgive me but I can't help but notice something is troubling you."

Amelia was slow to reply at first, her eyes hesitating before meeting Johnson's. Her hands fidgeting in her lap.

"When we find Charles, Haytham... will want to kill him. I know him too well."

"Are you...Are you saying you'd rather he let Charles live?"

Amelia tried to swallow the lump in her throat, her hands trembling as she took a breath.

"I'm saying...I don't need to be protected. I don't want to be..."

"Ah. I see."

"He killed my mother William."

Johnson grew silent as he darted his eyes to the floor, the guilt weighting on him as he tried not to look at the hurt in her eyes.

"I am sorry for what happened to your mother Amelia. Truly I am."

Amelia forced a small smile before it quickly faded away. She knew Johnson wasn't to blame.

"I should go."

Johnson gave an understanding nod as she stood to leave. Not a moment wasted as he dived straight back into his work. She made her way through the sleeping quarters, the floorboards creaking loudly under foot. She opened the door to both her own and Haytham's room, smiling sweetly when she noticed her love sat at the desk, his nose lost deep within a book.

"It seems you've gotten Johnson rather excited about this Observatory, I haven't seen a man research and study as much as he has since we left shore."

She felt a moment of concern when he didn't answer. Though quickly shrugging it off as a thought of him simply being too preoccupied with his book as she decided to take some time to read herself.

"Would he approve of me?"

Haytham's voice was so quiet that she almost missed what he had said. But soon realized the seriousness of his question when she saw the desperation in the poor man's eyes.

"Who?"

"My father? Your father? Would they have even approved of us being together?"

Amelia was slightly taken back by the question for a second. Where had it come from so out of the blue? That was until she realized he was reading his father's journals. Her mouth opened and closed when her words failed her. Haytham placed the journal down as he slowly made his way over to her.

"My father wanted me to become an Assassin, he spent years training me; giving me the ability to do so. But I abandoned that cause..."

"And followed your own path Haytham. You know where you came from and you've never hidden from it. We both know from our years together that the two are not so different. Working together, you and I...us. We've proved that."

Haytham leaned into the soft caress of her hand placed against his cheek as his eyes slid shut.

"Your father would be proud of the man you've become. As I'm sure my father would be proud of me. The fact that we're together-"

"Changes everything. Amelia I love you."

She beamed at the words, her heart skipping in her chest.

"And I love you. My father would have been thrilled to know we've found each-other again. After all mother always said they'd often joke about becoming in-laws one day."

Haytham's smile grew as he chuckled pulling Amelia close, softly kissing her forehead.

"Perhaps one day..."


	25. Chapter 25

**Sorry it's been a while since the last update, been sorting things out for racing college and it was my 21st birthday on the 11th anyway enjoy! **

* * *

Though their time had been short in Kingston, it had been well spent. The sun had long since set, the sparkling stars; shined clear in the Caribbean sky. The dull warm glows from the fire lanterns burned through the night, as pale shadows danced along the walls.

The three had taken their stay at Marley Brewery Tavern. The pub packed with people, the sounds of life surrounding the place. The echoes of clinking tankards and laughter along with the merry Tavern songs and sailor's sea shanties.

Haytham slowly brought his ale to his lips, taking a sip while overseeing the map Johnson was busy scribbling notes onto. Amelia's fingers traced the rim of her glass, never taking a moment to actually drink. She slowly leaned forward, her eyes meeting with Haytham's as her chair creaked against her weight.

"My Assassins have informed me that Charles has taken residence of Laurence Prins' old home. He's to hold the masquerade ball in a few days' time."

"Excellent that should give us enough time to plan. If we're to obtain the key back from Charles we need to attend unnoticed, the masquerade provides us with the perfect cover. Johnson do you suppose you could find us the proper attire before the ball?"

"Of course Sir. In fact I believe I saw a Tailors not too far from here."

"Very well. I will leave you to take care of this task then. You can leave first thing in the morning."

Johnson gave a stern nod before almost immediately going back to his notes. Haytham turned back to Amelia only to find that his love had left. The skilled Assassin in her never making a sound. Excusing himself he left the Tavern, stepping out into the hot humid Jamaican air. Rushing through the crowds of people that stalked Kingston's paths, he took a short walk up a steep hill. As he reached the top; the sight of the large windmill stood tall against the night's dark glittering canvas. And at the very top sat Amelia.

Letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, he quickly took to climbing the structure before finally reaching the top. She sat alone, dressed only in a single shirt, breeches and boots. Hugging her legs to her chest, her eyes cast out to the view below. Her face blank and eyes cold. Haytham approached slowly, shrugging off his jacket and gently draping it across her shoulders to shield her from the slight chill from the brisling winds so high up. He silently sat beside her, never speaking a word until she was ready. The only sounds the chirping of the crickets against the calming gushes of the oceans waves.

"He's there Haytham."

Following her gaze she was staring at the large mansion below, the land surrounding now crawling with Redcoats.

"The man that killed my mother in there right now. And there's not a thing I can do."

His heart broke when she looked at him. The darkness in her eyes, the pain. He was all too familiar with it. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close to his chest. His hands entwined as they lay rested against her stomach.

"I know. He will pay for what he did Mila. To you. To me and to your mother. This I swear to you."

* * *

On the night of the ball ,the mansion and its land were quite grand given its years of neglect. The Templars clearly taking the time to restore the property to its former glory just as Edward had described in his journal from his years spent in Kingston. Fire lanterns lit the pathway to the home, while ribbons and flowers hung decoratively.

Amelia almost admitted it looked rather pretty. With Johnson taking his position by arriving at the ball an hour earlier, she was left to attend with Haytham. Not that the Assassin would've ever complained but a small part of her wished that for once she would've had the chance to actually dance with him.

She took a deep breath against her corset, this dress an improvement from the one she wore back in New York. Given that it allowed breathing room and long sleeves for her hidden blades. Both dressed in a deep royal red, she pulled her mask down over her eyes. The dark lace and single feather itching against her skin, scrunching her nose for a moment before it sat comfortably in place. She took hold of Haytham's arm as he led them up the path. Slowly leaning in as he brought his lips to brush with her ear.

"According to our sources, Charles will be taking a meeting with the Templars tonight. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course. Johnson will signal when he's found the documents, the two of you worry about finding the map... Leave the key to me. This isn't my first ball Haytham."

Amelia felt the butterflies flutter in her stomach as Haytham chuckled at the memory.

"Ah, of course my dear. How could ever I forget?"

As they entered the ball they were greeted by a home filled with breathtaking suits and gowns; magnificent masks and the gentle flow of a playing string quartet. The Assassin took in each sight as she made her way through the crowds. Finally emerging to see the beauty of the ballroom, each couple gliding across the floor like angels. Once again finding herself captivated by it. The rush of emotions skipping her heart, fluttering in her stomach till she breathed heavily.

Her green eyes flickered towards her love to notice he was smiling at her. So obviously caught up with her fascination with the ball. She smiled warmly in return, though it quickly faded when he took her hand and led her to the center of the ballroom.

"What are you-"

"It occurred to me that I never asked you to dance in New York. A regret that I'll confess had somewhat stayed with me. I think it's time we rectify that don't you?"

She smiled as he placed his hand against her waist, pulling her close. Their eyes locked and arms entwined as they slowly began to dance. The soft melody playing seemed to surround them, leaving her breathless. As the dance came to an end they slowed as Haytham brought Amelia's hands to his lips, gently placing a kiss on the tips of her fingers.

She failed to hide the blush creeping on her cheeks, that only seemed to deepened at his signature smirk. Clearing his throat he quickly let go when he noticed Johnson standing in the doorway. Taking a moment remembering why they were there.

"I'd better go. Charles' meeting is being held in the garden, be careful."

"Always."

He kissed her check before quickly making his way through the crowd towards Johnson. Taking a deep breath Amelia moved towards the wooden doors leading outside.

The music was muffled outdoors, the only sounds being the chirping crickets and distant sea. The click of her shoes on the hard stone path sped up with her pace. The garden almost scarce in comparison with the guests indoors. The odd couple sneaking out for a quiet moment alone, the lonely drunks sitting in the grass mumbling to themselves. And the distinct sound of upper class accents and laughter.

At the top of the garden stood a tall wooden canopy. Inside a round table holding the each Templar that had sided with Charles Lee.

"Well gentlemen, I am pleased to say we have acquired both the map and the precursor key needed to gain access to the Observatory. I've made plans to leave soon."

"And what of Johnson?"

Charles eyed Benjamin Church with a scowl.

"I assure you that traitor will be dealt with when I have the time. Although at this moment, he alone poses no threat."

"Oh really then wot about Hayfem' and that Assassin bird of 'is?"

The Templars glared at Thomas Hickey's slurred words as he went back to downing his bottle of wine.

"I admit that was most unfortunate. However I'm sure once the Assassin is dead, Haytham will eventually see reason. Allowing us to bring him back to the Order. Now please gentlemen enjoy the ball..."

The men mumbled their thank you's, before dispersing. A few of the Templars even tipping their hats to Amelia as they passed by. When the coast was clear and every man had gone, Amelia made her move.

She slowly approached the path leading to the canopy, stepping inside. Her eyes locked on Charles as he sat alone at the table. Extending her hidden blades she stepped cautiously before jabbing the blade into his back causing him to flitch.

"Hello Charles."

"Ame-Amelia?"

As he attempted to turn to face her she drove the blade deeper into his back, earning a pained wince in response.

"Ah ah ah...I wouldn't move if I were you. Or even think of calling for your guards. You wouldn't want to cause a scene in front of all these lovely people now would you?"

"Why are you here?"

"I think we both know the answer to that. The key...Where is it?"

"I see you've figured out my plans then? After all why else would you be here..."

"I don't have time for conversations Charles, the key..._now!"_

Her anger boiled inside her, her eyes blank of all emotion. The darkness creeping up as she drove the blade even deeper into his flesh drawing blood as it seeped into his clothes. He hissed in pain, his hand fiddling in his pocket before holding the precursor key for her to take. She snatched the artefact from his grip, placing it into her pocket. Her hands now trembling.

"I suppose you're going to kill me now _Assassin?"_

She thought about it. The pain he'd caused her, the months of being locked away. Killing her mother and taking Haytham away from her. Her whole being trembled with anger, tears swelling in her eyes. Her heart racing. She twisted the blade harder, enjoying the sound of his pained breaths. Before snapping the hidden blade back and stepping away from him.

"No. Killing you won't bring my mother back, and then I'm no better than you. No more Charles, I'm done."

Her skin crawled at the wicked chuckle from the Templar as he casually leaned back in his chair.

"Then I suppose you'd better leave while you can, my dear Amelia."


	26. Chapter 26

The early morning sun beamed in the hot Caribbean sky as its rays streamed through the thick jungle trees, its deep green seeming to glow against the shine. The rush of the wind against the ocean's waves filled the island with a sense of calm. An unsettling silence that left both Haytham and Amelia on edge.

The nights after the masquerade ball had been both long and agonizing, hours spent studying Charles' maps and documents before finally finding the information they needed. Shortly after Haytham and Amelia departed for Long Bay in search of the Observatory. Johnson had reluctantly decided to travel back to Boston following word from the Colonies of rising conflicts from the ongoing war.

Haytham couldn't help the sense of dread in his stomach since Amelia's meeting with Charles Lee. He couldn't understand why she'd walked away...Why he'd allowed her to walk away. It was an endless sea of doubts that never seemed to leave him, weighting on his chest.

The further into the jungle they went, the more the silence seemed to play with their minds.

"According to my father's journals; the Observatory was once greatly protected by the people of this land. But it would seem Spaniards drove them out years ago."

"It would appear that way but we must stay vigilant. Even if there are no people here; the wildlife won't hesitate to attack us."

The former Grandmaster gave a nod as they made their way through the area. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword all the while. The path took them through the wondrous sights of the island, the open waterfall casting out its crisp clear water to the river flowing below. Twisting vines, breathtaking views as far as they eye could see, the bold beauty of rare flowers blooming at the base of every tree.

Gasps escaped both their lips as the sight of the old ruins greeted them. The temple stood tall, its strange architecture somewhat frozen in time. Its unusual metals and markings striking out against its dull background.

"Incredible...It's just as my father described it. Wait here..."

Amelia moved to argue but decided against it, silently watching as her love cautiously approached the Temple's door.

As the Sage's blood touched glass, the Temple erupted to life. The strange hums of the past floating in the ghostly mists surrounding the two as the door began to drop; descending into the ground with a dull thud.

Mechanics fueled the burning fires of the wall's lights, as it lit their path illuminating the remains of the many unlucky souls at their feet. The Temple was grand in both size and appearance. The inside like that of a palace of both rock and metals all a strange glow. Blood vials of the forgotten filling the shelved walls.

In the center stood a striking golden circle of unknown markings holding a crystal glass skull; its empty eyes seeming to stare at the two as they entered.

Amelia took in the Observatory in all its glory and it was certainly a sight to behold. Haytham only ever more fascinated with the words of his father reading true as the reality stood before him.

"Haytham this is...incredible. Do you know how the artefact works?"

"Excellent question my dear..."

Both turned to be faced with Charles Lee and his Redcoats surrounding him as he made his way towards the couple. As the Templar stepped closer Haytham didn't hesitate to place himself between the two, his back shielding Amelia from the raised muskets of the Redcoats.

"Please; continue. I believe the lady asked you a question Haytham..."

Haytham replied with a hard glare, the anger and hatred burning in his eyes as he stormed forward with hidden blades drawn.

"I could kill you!"

"Haytham no-"

Amelia pulled Haytham back, her hand softly placed on his cloaked shoulder. Charles flinched; his Redcoats aiming their weapons at the ex-Templar. Charles sent a smirk Amelia's way, her skin crawling at the twisted look in his eye.

"He's certainly protective of you isn't he Amelia? Good, I can use that. Now the artefact, it would seem you're the only one with the knowledge to activate it Haytham."

Amelia yelped as a Redcoat took hold of her from behind, the cold sting of a blade being pressed to her throat drawing a small trickle of blood. Haytham moved to attack only to be knocked to the ground by the blunt end of a musket. Watching helplessly as Charles took hold of his love, forcing the tip of the blade further into her throat. The blood seeping into her clothes as it slipped down her neck. Amelia winced in pain refusing to give in to the hold the Templar had on her.

"Now listen closely, you are going to give me what I want! Activate the artefact or she dies! Edward Kenway left quite the mark on the West Indies; your father was trusted with the secrets of the Observatory only to be passed down through generations."

The piercing glare in his eyes, the steadiness of his hand proved he wasn't bluffing. Charles consumed with the overwhelming claim of power; now just out of his reach. The only reason he'd kept Haytham alive, to do what no other could. Armed with the knowledge of his father's memories, he cautiously stepped up to the crystal skull; the ghostly glow shining bright against human touch. Like a riddle of keys gleaming before the naked eye; the Temple erupted to life, flashes of fire light bursting from the walls and ground. The screams echoed of Charles' men as their bodies perished into a mess of blood leaving no trace behind.

Fear crippled Charles as wide eyes darted about the room, terrified at the instantaneous slaughter of his men. He stumbled back, arms trembled as his voice roared against the deafening rumbles.

"What have you done?!"

Amelia took her chance to push back against Charles' grip, her elbow swinging into his gut causing him to double back. His footing lost on the edge of the towering cliff to deep waters below. The Assassin screamed as he snatched her hand pulling her with him. His body tumbled over the ledge hanging over the pit, Amelia struggling to keep level. Charles ever weighting her down, their eyes locked as he snarled at her; his grip clawing at her skin. Fingernails drawing blood from her trembling arm.

"Perhaps you should have killed me when you had the chance my love. You're weak Amelia, you couldn't even save your mother. What is it that leads you to believe you can ever save yourself?"

The tears blurred in her vision, her pain clouding her heart pulsing through her mind like a rush from the tide. Her jaw clenched in anger as she loosened her grip.

"Go to hell Charles."

She didn't hesitate as she let go. Watching as his body hit the water before disappearing into the abyss below. She pulled herself back as she lay against the stone floor, her gasping pants of relief washing away the guilt weighting on her chest.

"Amelia..."

She chuckled into the embrace of Haytham's chest as he sunk to his knees beside her. His arms a welcomed warmth surrounding her. The two sat in the silence of the calming Temple. It was over now and they were safe. To Amelia that's all that mattered. Her heart still ached from the lost of her mother and from the pain the Templars had put her through but time would heal those wounds.

She saw herself building a future with Haytham now, nothing left to tear them apart. She could finally live a peaceful life. Rising to her feet she took one last look at the Observatory, the mystery to be left alone. It was not their time. And it was not their weapon to wield. Her Assassin blood telling her to walk away.

"We should handle the artefact carefully, if we're to return it to Boston in one piece."

Amelia's content smile faded at Haytham's words as he removed his cloak wrapping it tightly around the crystal skull.

"Haytham...what are you doing?"

"You're not suggesting we leave this here are you?"

"It's not for us. Put it back."

The frown set deep in Haytham's face as he rose to his feet.

"Amelia this device is capable of seeing great distances. Seeing into the minds of man, all that is required is a drop of blood. Think of possibilities...to be all seeing."

"Charles killed innocent people! All for power, control...It's not worth it Haytham! It's...not worth any of this!"

"He was a poor leader nothing more. In the right hands Amelia, we would use this device for ourselves. Think about it...the first Grandmaster and Mentor joining the Templars and Assassins together as one."

"The Templars destroyed everything!"

"Charles corrupted the Order but I can restore it back to it's former glory. Both Order and Creed need never fight again."

"No... You have to choose."

Amelia's heart broke as she saw the desire clouding in his eyes. The need for power, control. The same heartless Grandmaster she had hated years ago now reclaiming the man she loved. Standing toe to toe with his towering frame she gazed into his eyes only to find that man she knew was once again lost to his consuming Templar greed. Her trembling smile cracked against the tears that fell as she softly stroked his cheek, the memory of his touch aching in her heart until it hurt.

"Forgive me."

A breathless gasp left Haytham's lips as Amelia's hidden blade struck him, his lifeless body falling from the ledge. She stood numb and alone. Her heart stone and cold like her stare. She carefully unwrapped the crystal skull before placing it back to it rightful place.

The Temple once again in a deep slumber to be left undisturbed. Amelia lost count of the hours she'd sat alone in the Temple before finally returning to the surface. The sea was so peaceful at night, the waves slowly hugging the shore of the island with every heartbeat of the wind. The seagulls singing above as they flew across the clouded night sky that only held the few stars that dared to peek at the earth below.

Amelia stood silent and numb in a daze, the quiet on the outside only mocking the ache of her screaming heart. In that moment she simply let the exhaustion and the pain take her; as her pained cries called out to the empty night. Her body limp and broken in the sand as she sobbed for her lost love.


	27. Chapter 27

Everything felt numb, like her heart turned to ice. Every nerve; every feeling drowning in alcohol. Her mind spinning into a lethal storm almost as harsh as the sea itself. In the time she'd returned to Boston she'd only lost more days and months in the time she spent alone in the Taverns.

Her guilt and heartache cascading into a bottomless pit that only inched that much closer to swallowing her whole. She'd received news that Johnson had eventually returned to side with the Templars. But given how weak she was, both in mind and body she couldn't find the strength to care anymore.

The more she drank, the more she seemed to be haunted by her love. His face seemly every man that passed, his voice being the only one she heard whenever a man spoke nearby.

As the months passed she let herself fall deeper and deeper. Her once noble mind now a pitied mess of drunkenness and anger. An endless episode of waking up in damp alleyways and picking fights she knew she could't win. Leaving her batted and bruised. Her lonely heart a mere shell of her former self.

She'd have the occasional flashes of memory from the nights before, though never really worrying herself of the details. Each night always ended the same, drinking herself senseless before being thrown out for starting fights or causing too much trouble in her drunken state.

This would always follow with her crying herself to sleep. It was a tragic and pathetic existence. But given what she'd done, Amelia felt it was all she deserved.

It hadn't taken long for Achilles to give up on her. She often thought of his words, bringing up yet more guilt of the people she'd let down.

_'Is this any way for an Assassin to act?'_

_'I don't believe I have the right to call myself "Assassin" anymore, do you old man?'_

_'You did what was necessary...'_

_'I killed him Achilles!'_

_'You believe he would have spared you child? Do not delude yourself. He was raised a Templar and he died a Templar! If you continue down this path of self-destruction it will only end badly my girl! I beg of you to think about this'_

_'Just leave me old man!'_

Achilles had left that day in the Tavern and had never returned. She didn't blame him. She was a lost cause.

After a while the drink had begun to help melt away the years as it began to show in her eyes, her face. The years of pain turning her bitter and tired.

She was so tired of chasing ghosts. Stumbling out the Tavern, drink in hand as she slumped down onto a bench. Glancing at the bottle in her hand she sighed, it wasn't helping anymore. The pain in her heart finally starting to come through again. As the tears fell from her sore eyes, she let the bottle slip from her fingers as it clinked against the cobbled road underfoot. The sound of hobbled footsteps drawing her attention as she looked up to find Achilles standing in front of her. The look of pity in his eyes.

"Come girl, up with you now. Let's get you home."

* * *

Amelia's nose crinkled at the cup of steaming tea placed in front of her.

"Do you have anything stronger?"

"I think you've had quite enough don't you?"

She sighed in defeat as she reluctantly took a sip of the beverage. Its warm touch awakening her once cold and numb insides. It almost felt nice, like a piece of her old self thawing from the frozen heart that had taken its hold of her.

"Why did you bring me here Achilles?"

The old man slowly made his way to the kitchen table before leaning his walking stick by the chair and taking a seat opposite her.

"It's been three years Amelia...I believed if I gave you time, you'd find your own way back. But as the years have proved I was wrong. And through the Assassins have disbanded, you can still have a good life. But only if you allow yourself to."

Amelia took in his words and knew deep down he was right. Her eyes finding the table as she couldn't quite bring herself to look Achilles in the eye. Her heart completely melted as he gently took her hand.

"It's time to stop punishing yourself Amelia."

The Assassin gave him a content smile. A sigh of relief puffing passed her lips that seemed to bring with it a weight being lifted off her chest.

"Thank you Achilles."

The old man smiled in return before rising to his feet, taking hold of his stick and her now empty cup.

"Now I think you should head upstairs to rest. I suspect it's been a while since you've had a proper night's sleep."

Amelia couldn't help but laugh lightly in spite of herself, the man wasn't wrong. But first she chose to stay and help the old man clean up. The sudden knock at the door catching her attention as she moved from the basin.

"It's alright, I will go."

She gave a nod before going back to her washing, all the while overhearing the movements in the other room as Achilles went to open the door.

"What?"

"Um...I was told you could train me..."

The boy didn't sound too old and as she moved to the hallway to get a better look; his appearance didn't seem very old either. A native boy, young and eager in both spirit and stance as he bounced from one foot to another.

"No."

Amelia was quite taken back by Achilles' answer and even more so when he proceeded to slam the door in the boy's face.


	28. Chapter 28

Amelia leaned against the wall by the window, arms crossed lips pulled into a small smirk as she watched the boy outside. It had been three days since he'd come knocking at the door. And still after much pushing from Achilles; he'd still refused to leave.

"The boy is certainly persistent I'll give him that."

"He's a damned fool is what he is!"

She chuckled at Achilles' stubborn nature. Moving back through to the kitchen to sit opposite the old man.

"Achilles he's been sleeping in the stables for three days, maybe you should give him a chance. What are you so afraid of?"

"Afraid? You think I'm afraid of anything. Least of all, a self-important child like him? Oh he might dream of being a hero; of riding to the rescue, of saving the world. But you and I both know that if that boy stays this path; the only thing he's gonna be is dead. The worlds moved on, best we do too."

Not another word of it was spoken as the old man rose to his feet and disappeared upstairs. Amelia let out a sigh of defeat as her eyes wondered back towards the window. Night was darkening the sky as a storm roared it ways through the thin glass. The heavy rain pitter-pattering against the roof.

Later into the night Amelia wondered the house, all hopes of sleep now lost as her mind continued to think of the young boy in the stables.

A part of her thought Achilles was right. It was time to let go of the Assassins, but the other half couldn't turn her back on the Creed. Not again. She needed to keep going, she couldn't keep punishing herself.

Amelia's attention was suddenly caught by the sound of fighting. Through a flash of lightening, her eyes widened at the sight of the boy fighting off bandits as she rushed out into the cold winds to help. The boy was well trained, his skills quick and swift as he cut down bandit after bandit. As the final man moved to strike him down Amelia effortlessly killed the man, her blade connecting with his chest.

The boy whipped around to meet her stare as the bandit fell to the ground.

"Thank you."

"Clean this up."

The boy nodded as he kneeled down to the pile of bandits littering the floor.

"After you're down, come inside. We have much to discuss."

* * *

The boy took in his surroundings as he stepped through the house following Amelia into the living room. He flinched slightly at the sight of Achilles as he hobbled into the room; a glare being sent Amelia's way.

"And what's this?"

"Say what you want old man but the boy is skilled and clearly in need of guidance."

Achilles stood speechless for a moment before letting out a deep breath of defeat.

"Very well. If you truly believe the boy is capable of becoming an Assassin."

He noticed the look of confusion on the boy's face, a scoff passing his lips as he slowly sat down beside Amelia.

"Ah but you don't even know what an Assassin is, do you boy?"

The boy offered no answer only a shake of his head in reply.

"Well best settle in then. We've got a story to tell and it's going to take a while of get it all out."

The boy sat patiently as the hours flew by, as Amelia and Achilles told him the story of the Creed. Of the Master Assassins through time, the endless battles against the Templars. Of Grandmasters and artefacts. Hanging on every word, he never interrupted; eager to learn the history of the Creed he so desperately wanted to join. Achilles leaned back in his chair, the deep aches in his ageing muscles pulling in the discomfort of the wooden chair.

"...And so this is why the Assassins have dedicated themselves to the pursuit of the Templars. Because if they succeed-Their ideals will become reality."

"Then I will stop them."

Amelia and Achilles shared a knowing look as both smirked at the boy's words.

"Like I said...the boy's certainly persistent. What's your name?"

"My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton."

"I'm not even going to try and pronounce that."

Achilles shifted in his seat gaining the attention of both Amelia and the boy.

"If you're going to get about in the main cities then you're going to need a new name, your skin is fair enough that you might pass for one with Spanish or Italian blood."

"Alright, what would you call me then?"

Achilles thought for a moment before slowly rising from his chair, leaning his weight again his walking stick.

"Connor... Yes that will be your name."

Amelia froze at the man's words. A worrisome look clouding her eyes.

"Achilles...are you sure?"

"Yes...I'm sure."

Connor didn't understand the meaning behind Amelia's words but didn't speak against it. He stood silently for a second but quickly raised his voice as Achilles began to leave the room.

"Wait! I need an answer...will you train me?"

"No...But, Amelia will."

* * *

As the months passed Connor soon gained strength, speed and endurance in his training. He was eager to learn and a quick study. Amelia twisted her sword as it clanged with Connor's, feet glided across the floor like a perfectly rehearsed dance and Connor always seemed to know the steps.

"Again."

Connor turned swinging his sword through the air as it caught Amelia's blade, pushing back she pinned Connor with his own weapon. Moving forward he effortlessly kicked back as she tumbled to the ground, her sword slipping from her grip as Connor drew his own down to hover just above her neck.

"Better. Your improvement in such a short time is impressive."

Connor nodded in thanks as he reached out his hand; pulling Amelia to her feet.

"You are a good teacher."

Amelia playfully scoffed at his compliment as she put the swords away. Taking a moment she slowly turned to face him; a heavy look deep in her eyes.

"I think it's time I showed you something Connor. Come, follow me."

The young recruit followed his mentor down to the basement as he glanced around at the small training room. The weapons hanging on the walls, the many uniforms hung in plain sight to admire. In all his time training with Amelia she'd always held her sessions outside. He realized this was his first time entering the basement. Though he couldn't understand the secretary of it all. Sliding a plank of wood to the side Connor froze at the sight of the many portraits hung on the wall.

"These are the Templars you're likely to face. They've certainly taken a hold of the Colonies these past few years, I can tell you."

"What do the Templars want?"

"What they've always wanted; Control. During my time the Order has been led by two Grandmasters... Both were... killed. I don't however have any information as to who's taken the place of Grandmaster now. But I do know they'll stop at nothing to get what they want."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For what happened to my father...I...I did not know him but I do know that it could not have been easy to strike down someone you love."

Amelia felt her heart ache at the thought of Haytham. It'd been years till she'd finally mustered the courage to look upon his portrait again; let alone think about him. It hadn't taken long for her to figure out about Connor, for she was well-aware that she was not the only love in the Templar's life. After learning of his mother's death, Amelia felt guilty for unknowingly taking away the boy's father too. She felt she owed Connor. And it seemed training him as an Assassin as he wanted was all she had to offer.

"Ah... I see Achilles told you everything did he?"

She saw the look of sympathy in Connor's eyes as he nodded.

"I'm sorry Connor."

"There is no need. I understand, you were given no choice. I...I forgive you."

"I loved your father a great deal but in the end, his Templar greed it just...love wasn't enough. I understand that now."

As Connor opened his mouth to reply, Achilles' voice echoed from the top of the stairs.

"Amelia. Connor, could I see you two for a moment?"

The two quickly caught up with the old man as he led them out to the parked carriage outside the house.

"I've decided to do something about the house. And you two are going to help me. Amelia take this list and buy the supplies we need. Connor you will go with her."

* * *

Connor jumped out of the carriage onto the soft snow covered floor, the boy bewildered by the Town surrounding him as he followed Amelia through the crowds.

"This place is incredible! The people, the sights, the smells. I could walk these streets for days and know not even half its wonders."

"I thought the same as you once upon a time. But these days I think it best I stay out of the city."

Connor silently continued to follow his mentor through the streets of Boston. Waiting patiently by the sidelines as she ordered the supplies needed for the homestead. As they stepped out back into the busy city, both stood observing the growing groups and building voices. Connor stopped in his tracks as Amelia raised her arm across his chest.

"Hold a moment Connor. I don't like the look of this."

"What is happening?"

"That's what we're going to find out. Follow me."

The two made their way through the sea of people spreading out amongst the streets. Connor stayed close to Amelia as she led the way. His wondering eyes glance around at the growing tension in the air, the odd civilian wrestling with a Redcoat. Soldiers pushing their way to the front of the crowds. The church bells echoing in the distance sounding every few seconds. As they neared the front, it brought them closer towards the Custom's house. The crowd shouting insults at the soldiers and guards, their protesting voices ever growing louder over the Redcoats.

_'I say again: disperse! Congregating in this manner is forbidden! No good can come of this chaos! Return to your homes and all will be forgiven.'_

"Amelia...that man...that cannot be. Can it?"

Amelia followed Connor's line of sight, heart skipping, her breath caught in her throat as she did.

"No..."

Her blood ran blood as she looked up to what could only be that of a ghost. Haytham stood tall and noble, his hands rested behind his back as usual. His cold manner almost freezing the patch of snow he stood upon.

"That is my father...but how can that be?"

As Haytham surveyed the crowd he too froze at the sight of Amelia. The two locked in their gaze. Amelia's that of shock and confusion, but Haytham's was now cold and empty as he looked away. Amelia didn't stop to think as she backed away from the crowd. Connor's calling voice a faded buzz in her ears as she retreated back to the carriage.


	29. Chapter 29

Amelia paced back and forth through the dining room while Achilles sat silently observing her restlessness. A breath caught in her throat as she gasped against her building anxiety. She hasn't wasted any time in returning from Boston, leaving the city as soon as she could. Seeing Haytham again, the cold look in his eyes broke her heart all over again.

"I don't understand...it's not possible. I saw him Achilles! I saw him when he-"

"Haytham Kenway is anything if not resourceful. The man clearly found a way to survive both his wound and the fall in the Observatory."

Amelia collapsed on a nearby chair, her head rested in the palm of her hands as she sighed in defeat.

"I just can't believe it. After all these years..."

The sound of the front door slamming open and close caused her to flinch slightly as Connor stormed through the hallway. His hands balled into fists, trembling where he stood.

"You left me in Boston!"

"I know Connor and I'm sorry-"

"Sorry? I believed my father to be dead; only to come face to face with him not eight months later!"

"Enough Connor! Can't you see she's punishing herself already?"

Connor froze at the old man's outburst, taking a moment to look back at his mentor. The guilt suddenly melting away his anger.

"Amelia I am sorr-"

"No Connor, you're right. We need to deal with this."

"And what would you do when you found him hmm? IF you found him? You're one Assassin and a boy with a few months training. He's a man who spent years honing his skills with a whole rank of Templars on his side."

Both shared a knowing look at Achilles' words; the old man was right. As much as they hated to admit it. Amelia let out a deep sigh, Connor sensing her frustration as he placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

"The Templars...they have to die don't they?"

"If you're going to stand a chance against the Templars with me Connor; you're going to need these."

Connor stood patiently as Amelia crossed to the room, shortly returning with a large wooden box. Hesitating for a moment before handing it to him. As he opened the lid; she noticed his face light up at the sight of his own hidden blades and robes. His smile spread across his face as he looked back to his mentor.

"Go on before I change my mind."

"Do you...really believe I am ready? Achilles?"

"If Amelia truly believes you are ready then who am I to disagree."

Connor stood proud in his Assassin robes while admiring the newly equipped hidden blades as he flicked them back and forth.

"Once we had a ceremony on such occasions. But I don't think any of us are really the type for that. You've your tools and training. Your targets and goals. And now you have your title. Welcome to the Brotherhood Connor.

* * *

Not long after becoming an Assassin, Connor seemed to take off. The months slipping by almost as quickly as the tide. Amelia received frequent letters from the boy keeping her updated.

Although the day she'd received word of William Johnson's assassination had hit her harder than she'd expected. Even as far as shedding a few tears for the man. He'd been kind enough to rescue her and Haytham; assisting them against Charles. A part of her was hoping it wouldn't come to losing the only other Templar she'd once called friend.

Not long after she'd learnt he'd also managed to kill John Pitcairn. He'd rebuilt the Aquila before bringing together a new crew. Brought families together to start new lives for themselves at the Homestead. He'd even recruited a few new members for the Brotherhood; sending the younger, inexperienced members to the Homestead for Amelia to train. She could help the sense of pride for what Connor had achieved in the short months after becoming an Assassin.

Once a week Amelia would anyways received a letters from Connor. So when the letters suddenly stopped she knew in an instant something wasn't right. Mr Faulkner had agreed to take her to Boston on his next voyage. Once again finding herself at the docks; the sense of dread filling her stomach.

Her hood shielding her face from the rain as she cautiously made her way through the sleeping city. Boots splashing against the filling puddles on the road. The night sky rumbled over head as she ducked into an alleyway to avoid the marching Redcoats. Her back pinned against the damp wall, soaking her robes. Leaning back she searched the area for a quick escape from the approaching guards.

"Ugh I'm getting too old for this."

She muttered to herself as she prepared to climb the wall.

"Looking for Connor I assume?"

She flinched at the sudden voice, her eyes narrowing to make out the cloaked figure in the shadows. Her heart stopping when he stepped into the light.

"Haytham."

She took in the sight of her former lover. His hair turning grey, the age showing on his face. But the blue of his eyes still as striking as ever. Her heart ached at the hate in his eyes. It didn't matter how much he tried to hide it.

"Hello, Amelia."

he smug smirk on his face turned her stomach, crossing her arms she let her anger take a hold of her as she glared at him.

"You look rather well considering you've been dead for the last three years."

"No thanks to you."

She couldn't help but laugh in spite of herself. A smirk of her own finding her as she decided to play along with the game Haytham was clearly playing with her.

"Still bitter I see."

"Well when someone tries to kill you..."

"I didn't try Haytham... I thought I had!"

Haytham paused thinking over her words, his smirk falling to a frown.

"Well then, I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"I don't have time for this; where's Connor?"

Amelia tried to keep calm as he began to pace circles around her, arms rested behind his back.

"Ah... about that, it would seem the boy managed to get himself arrested."

"Arrested? Why?"

"Caught counterfeiting I'm told."

"Not possible."

The Templar was surprised at how quickly she answered, the certainty in her voice. He assumed she was close with Connor, considered him a close friend. She had trained the boy after all.

"Perhaps but what concerns me are the reports I've received regarding the ring leader of the operation."

"Which is?"

"Thomas Hickey."

"Well that certainly explains a lot. Though why you're still working with that horrid man is beyond me."

"That's the thing Amelia. I'm not. He never rejoined the Order; he's working for another. Though I've yet to find out who."

He didn't give her a chance to reply as he took off. Their shoulders barely brushing as he passed. Amelia let him leave, her heart thumping in her chest at the sound of his retreating steps.

"Haytham wait...Why are you telling me this?"

He stopped in his tracks, hesitating for a minute before turning to face her.

"Because despite what you may think, I'm still rather fond of you."


	30. Chapter 30

Bridewell Prison was dark and damp. The horrid smell of the place carrying through the air. Connor laid on the hard cold floor, the poor straw bedding providing little to no comfort. He sighed against the stale stuffy air. A shiver dancing up his spine from the cold chill drifting in from the open bars overhead.

He'd been in prison for all of three days and after his second attempt at escape he'd found himself locked up in yet another cell the Redcoats believed to be strong enough to hold the Assassin.

He felt himself flinch at the distance sound of clanging metal quickly followed by the pained grunts of what he could only assume belonged to Redcoats. Jumping to his feet he swiftly moved to the cell door, his eyes searching the shadowed corridor. Instincts on edge and heart rate high; he relaxed at the sight of his Mentor appearing from the darkness; lit torch burning in hand.

"Amelia how did you-"

"No time to explain Connor. Come on let's get you out of here."

He stood back, patiently waiting as she pulled the prison keys from the pocket of her robe. The metal door creaking in protest as it swings open. He gave a nod of gratitude as she handed him a Redcoats sword; both Assassin and Mentor making their way down the stone corridor.

"We have to find him..."

"Yes I know. And we will; as soon as I get you out of here. Then we can track down Hickey."

"Not him. The man he works for. The man behind all of this, the man that burned down my village. Charles Lee."

Amelia stopped at Connors words, turning to face him. Her eyes wide and heart stopping.

"Connor...that's impossible. Charles is dead. I killed him four years ago."

"No he was here. He is the one who released Hickey. We cannot allow him to get away. We have to find him."

"Connor...You are sure of this?"

The boy nodded. The hatred for the man burning a deep darkness in his eyes. Amelia let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"Alright."

Emerging from the underground tunnel; Amelia extinguished the torch placing the lamp by the steps before leading Connor to a pair of horses. The mares snorting at their riders as they approached. Amelia soothed her mount gently stroking her on the nose as she stepped to the mare's saddle bag.

Connor reacted with quick reflexes, eyeing the small pack in his hands.

"I believe those belong to you."

The young Assassin gave a small smile as he reattached the hidden blades to his wrists then slipping the remaining uniform into the bag of his own horse.

"Go to New York. Find a woman by the name of Dobby Carter; she's a friend. A fellow Assassin. She'll help you find Charles."

"And what will you do?"

"You let me worry about that."

He gave a nod before mounting his horse. The mare shouting response as Connor pulled at the reins.

"Connor..."

The boy glanced back at his mentor, a blank look masking his features.

"Be careful."

"Of course."

Amelia watched him ride away, the sound of hooves clopping against the cobbled road before fading the further away he galloped. With trembling hands Amelia turned back to face the city of Boston before her. Her anger almost blinding her as her vision turning red.

* * *

The Templar grunted in pain as Amelia threw him against the alleyway wall. The man wincing as she pressed her hidden blade to his bare throat.

"I'll ask once more! Where's your Grandmaster?"

"I told you, I don't know!"

"Liar!"

He yelped as she drove her blade into his shoulder, anger clouding her vision as she twisted the blade in his flesh. His pained screams falling on deaf ears. The knowledge of Charles being alive after all that time pushing her further. Considering the way events had played out; the puzzle seemingly clear for Amelia the more she more thought it through. Haytham had survived and so had Charles, the only way she believed such a thing would have been possible would be for the two to work together.

The thought angering her even more as she drove the blade even deeper into the Templar's shoulder.

" .He?!"

"I don't know! I swear!"

She felt herself snapped as she struck the Templar in the throat, carelessly throwing his lifeless body to the floor with a sickening thud. Her chest heaving as she panted from the bubbling anger in her veins.

"Really Amelia... If you wanted to see me all you had to do was ask."

The sound of his voice turned her stomach and boiled her blood. She didn't even think. Didn't even hesitate when she flew at him, pinning him to the wall; her hidden blade forcefully digging into him.

"Skip the pleasantries Haytham. Charles is back; I assume you had something to do with it."

His brows frowned together; his cocky smirk lost as he gulped against the cold metal pressed to his neck.

"What on earth would make you think that?"

"Oh I don't know, that fact that you're Grandmaster. Surely you keep a track of your men."

Haytham scoffed in her face; raising his hand to slowly push away the blade from his exposed skin. Amelia allowed it; taking a single step back.

"Do you honestly think I'd welcome him back into the fold after everything he did? I may be a Templar but I'm no monster."

"You say that like there's a difference."

"Amelia..."

"Don't. I don't want you anywhere near me."

She moved back as Haytham went to touch her. His hand reaching out to take hers.

"See I don't believe that."

"Oh? You seem rather sure of yourself."

He smiled and it killed her. That smile she'd loved so much, which once warmed her heart. Now made her ache.

"I am. Admit it even after all we've been through; you still love me."

"Don't be ridiculous, my love for you died that day in the Observatory. Along with the Haytham I used to know."

She didn't believe the words that came out of her mouth even as she said them. She did still love Haytham, she knew she did as did he. But she refused to admit it. To herself and to him. The thought of losing him again, the thought of the Templars taking him away from her again was too much to bare.

"Really..."

"Yes."

Her breath trembled as he got closer. So close to she could hear him breathing; feel his breath against her face.

"You haven't missed me at all?"

"No."

She shivered as he touched her; his cold hand softly stroking her warming cheek.

"Haven't missed my kiss; my touch..."

"I...I don't..."

Her voice failed her as he leaned forward; a trail of hot kiss placed down her neck as she hummed in approval. In that moment she gave in; letting the pleasant feeling take over. The overwhelming need of him; it ached and she'd couldn't fight it anymore. She missed his touch. The feel of him around her. The sound of his voice. The warmth of his body. She'd missed it all. Her knees growing weak as he moved to meet her lips in a suffocating kiss; his arms snaking around her waist pulling her closer. Letting her eyes slide shut; losing herself in the haze of hot breaths and tender touches. Her hands taking hold of his cloak; fingers tangled in the material.

She suddenly felt Haytham flinch; a pained gasp breaking their kiss. Her eyes wildly glancing at him. Her hands taking hold of his face; the pain shinning in his eyes. Sweat moistening his forehead.

"Haytham? Haytham what is it?"

Her heart jumped to her throat at the sight of the arrow in his chest. The blood seeping through his clothes and pooling on the floor. His face turning pale as he lost grip his weight; legs falling from under him. Amelia acted quickly to catch him; placing his arm across her shoulder. Her every strength to support his weight.

"Amelia..."

She struggled to hold back the tears; hearing the pain in his fading voice.

"It's alright. I promise; I'm not losing you again. Let's get you somewhere safe."


	31. Chapter 31

Amelia could feel the dried blood that stained her hands and soaked her clothes, though none of it was hers as she continued to stand against the wall. Arms folded stone-like and silent. Her eyes sore from both the salted tears and lost sleep; the green orbs never moving away from Haytham's lifeless body in the center of the room. The Assassin hadn't moved the entire night for fear that the minute she turned away he would breathe his last breath.

He lay in just his breeches, a single sheet tangled between his legs. A thick bandage wrapped around his chest and stomach. With a collection of medicines, empty bottles and bloody rags left beside him, along with the broken arrow pulled from his body and throw aside in anger.

Amelia had spent the night fighting to save him, the arrow only just missing his heart. The pain and the fear of losing him once again had taken its toll on her and she felt numb to the exhaustion that burned and ached over her body. Bringing him to her mother's home had been the only place she felt safe enough for Haytham's recovery. Since her mother had died the house had become a former shell of itself. Bare and broken, windows boarded up allowing the odd stream of light into the dusty decaying home. Amelia had stayed the night once or twice during her time in Boston but she could never bring herself to rebuild the home to its former glory.

Over the week Amelia had continued her work in the city; ending each day by returning to the home to check on the recovering Templar. Connor had eventually sent word from New York informing her in his search for Lee; both frustrated with the fact that the man had yet to make an appearance in the Colonies.

When Haytham finally awoke, he had done so to an empty home. Amelia returning the morning after to find him sat by the fire nursing what was left of his healing wounds.

They had sat in silence that night; metal clinks of forks against plates being the only sound as they eat.

Haytham watched Amelia quietly as she paced about the room, his heart beat quickening its pace every time she looked at him. He slowly rose from his chair catching her attention, the silence building to only then be shattered by the chiming of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

"I take it this is what's left of us? Eating meals in silence; barely able to look at one another..."

"What do you what me to say Haytham? Do you want an apology for almost killing you? Or do you wish to thank me for saving your life?"

The Templar stood with no reply as he heard the hurt and anger in her voice. Four years had passed since he had seen Amelia. Since she had killed him...thought she had killed him. He had felt betrayed by her actions; still remembered the feel of her blade piercing his abdomen. The struggle as he swam from the temple and falling from the overreaching cliff side before slipping into the cascading water below.

His hours of sitting by the shore side patching his wound before signaling for a passing fishing ship to sail to his rescue. He had certainly been angry, that much he couldn't deny but the one thing he hadn't ever been able to do was hate her for it.

Haytham hadn't for a moment doubted her for her choice. He had understood her reasons and now knew just how much she had punished herself for it.

He looked at Amelia, her long brown hair now chopped slightly shorter and greying at the edges just as his was. Her age had begun to show wrinkling gently by her eyes and though the years had started to show she hadn't by any means lost her beauty; if anything Haytham thought her matured years made her that much more attractive.

She shook her head in defeat, a deep sigh leaving her lips as she stepped closer.

"It doesn't matter anymore does it? We're not good for each other Haytham. We never were."

"I don't believe that."

Amelia scoffed; anger shining in her eyes as she stormed towards Haytham standing toe to toe with the man. Not an inch of fear within her as she poked him in the chest.

"You were willing to give up everything for that artefact Haytham. To throw away all we had. Did you really think that little of me?"

"Of course not... I never stopped loving you."

She held back the tears that threatened to fall. Her hand falling from his chest; fingers trembling.

"I punished myself for years after what I did to you. Hated myself for it...I-"

"I know...I know."

Haytham didn't hesitate as he pulled Amelia into his arms; her whole body trembling as she sobbed into his chest. Her grasp tight around him, fingers digging into his coat. The two held one another for what felt like hours never moving from the others embrace. It was as if no time had passed and Haytham's need to protect his love was as stronger now than it had ever been.

* * *

The wind echoed through the trees as Connor made his way through the woods. The thick snow crunching beneath his boots. His hand hovering by his blades attached at the hip as he cautiously stepped into the nearby church. Eyes scanning the area as he came to find it bare and abandoned.

He sighed in defeat as he paced in the empty silence; though it was short lived as suddenly heard a creak overhead followed by a flash of blue that flew from the ceiling, before landing on top of him.

He took a moment as he focused to see the face of his father looking down upon him.

"Father."

"Connor. I do hope you're here with Amelia. I had hoped to speak with her after she took off rather suddenly the other night."

A look of confusion painted Connor's face as he glanced back up at his father.

"You mean she is not with you? I received word from her asking me to meet with her here. She wrote wishing to discuss the whereabouts of Charles Lee."

Haytham's brows found each other in a frown as he stood to his feet before reaching out his hand to his son, only for Connor to slap it away before crawling to feet on his own.

"Charles has returned to the Colonies?"

"I am told he returned a few days ago. No doubt he will be searching for the surviving Assassins."

"I assure you Connor Charles has no interest in the Assassins, he's after the Templars."


End file.
